


What Would You Have Me Do?

by umbraja



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst is inevitable, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Closeted Character, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, I take requests, Modern AU, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Lance (Voltron), Self Indulgent Madness, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Clone, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Texan Keith (Voltron), The Princess Bride References, This is Meta, author insert, wtf is going on?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbraja/pseuds/umbraja
Summary: This is where I’ll be putting challenges, prompts, self indulgent madness, and taking requests. Pretty much a ficlet dump that caters to your whim.Chapter 6: The Princess Pride“We'll reach the Cliffs by dawn.” The little Sicilian spoke with confidence standing beside the swordsman at the helm of a small sailboat gliding fast through a dark sea. The swordsman nodded then glanced over his shoulder to the distance behind them.“Why are you doing that?” the Sicilian didn’t even try to hide the irritation in their voice.“Making sure nobody's following us,” the swordsman gave a simple answer.“That would be inconceivable,” the Sicilian huffed at his paranoia.The Paladins of Voltron find themselves playing out the Princess Bride. What more really needs to be said?





	1. ToC / How To

**Author's Note:**

> I now have one of those tumblr things so come chat with me there if you want a more casual rambling space.
> 
> **[umbraja.tumblr.com](https://umbraja.tumblr.com/) **

## Table of Contents

  * **Chapter 1: TOC / How to** \- pretty self explanatory. 
  * **Chapter 2: Self Indulgent Madness** \- self indulgent madness, writer inserts herself into the company of the Paladins and lets her god complex run wild. Kinda awkward, feel free to skip  >.>
  * **Chapter 3: Lone Star: Morning After** \- continuation of the Lone Star Tour teaser, sort of a request fill for Closeted/Homophobic/Rodeo Keith where Lance goes to talk to Keith after their drunken hook up at the end of the teaser. 
  * **Chapter 4: Hermanos** \- request fill for a 5/1 that you have to guess at. POV switches between rest of team observing interactions between Keith and Lance. 
  * **Chapter 5: NotMyShiro** \- request fill for some fluffy angst with protective Keith defending/comforting Lance from a verbally abusive Shiro which makes them realise that’s Not Shiro. 



## Requests

I need prompts to keep the writer’s block at bay while I trudge through longer stories so I’m taking requests.

  * Make your requests in the comments on this chapter. Just leave a comment with something like “Can you write [insert request here]” and I’ll consider it. 
  * I probably won’t fill every request because I only have so much time but I will try to reply to them all and let you know what to expect. I make no promises on how quickly. I know better. 
  * The more specific, interesting, and unique your request is the more likely it will get written. Also, giving me feedback on other works will give your requests instant priority. 
  * I might combine complementary requests into a single ficlet for efficiency but I’ll be sure to make a note. 
  * I welcome all ships equally though can’t take them all seriously so if you give me something unusual be specific if you don’t want it to be silly. . . or messed up. 
  * Feel free to request specific styles, POVs, voicing, structure, or any other literary element you like. I strive for versatility but you’ll probably end up with postmodern snark or gothic dark if you leave me to my own devices. 
  * I am open to pretty much any sort of idea or theme and have exactly zero triggers (or at least lack the sense to avoid them) so don’t hold back. I do ask that you preface any really dark requests with a trigger warning though so you don’t scare off the faint of heart. 
  * I’ve been through and seen some shit in my life so I don’t have what one would consider a strong grasp on ‘normal’ or ‘inappropriate’ so, please, warn me of any sensitivity or triggers you might have so that I don’t end up using them in your request. No need to mention the really weird stuff but I am particularly prone to: cursing, grit, subversion, angst, realistic depictions of prejudice, homophobia, veterans issues, psychological disorders, drug use, abuse, injury, death, suicide, and the occasional eldritch horror. 



#### Thanks so much everyone for Kudos and Comments!


	2. Self Indulgent Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this got away from me. Over 1,300 words on this self indulgent madness. Hopefully it’s a decent writing sample.

Thin fingers danced lithely across the backlit keyboard with furious determination putting thought to screen at the speed of. . . well - thought. The pace pitched to a fevered fervor, almost slamming the keys, then sputtered out in disdain. The girl leaned back against the arm of the comfy couch where she sat sideways across two cushions and sighed. She lifted her glasses with one hand and rubbed tired eyes with the other before placing both hands back on home row. Right thumb tapped idly at the spacebar, not really keying it, as she read over the words. The left corner of her bottom tip twitched a frustrated half pout a moment before she fingered ctrl+A and hit Delete with an exasperated sound.

“Out of ideas?” the boy at the other end of the couch asked idly, not bothering to glance up from his book, a worn copy of _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_. The girl gave his red racing jacket and ridiculous mullet a look for the question then threw up her hands with a huff.

“Too many ideas! But big ones. Too big,” she pouted at her screen again, eyes flared wide in dramatic horror. “I can already feel the looming specter of writer’s block down the hall, rattling pans to taunt me.”

“I think that’s just Hunk. Baking cookies by the smell,” Mullet gave a little sniff to confirm then nodded in self satisfaction. The girl dropped her theatrics with a petulant glare.

“You know what we need,” another boy poked his head up from behind the couch, blue eyes shining. “Fun. That’s what we need,” he rested his chin on the back between the other two with a hopeful grin. They both gave him flat looks. “What? I’m bored,” his grin melted to something of vague annoyance. “I think I speak for everyone here that we’re kind of getting tired of your epic bullshit. You aren’t Tolkien.”

“I more identify with Martin. Songs of Ice and Fire,” the girl gave a threatening look between the two boys, blue and red. They both shrank a little from her for it.

“Don’t taunt her, Lance,” the Mullet hissed a whisper at Blue Eyes who shot a glare back.

“You started this - _Kieth_ ,” Blue hissed the name accusingly.

The girl cleared her throat before they started a shouting match, or making out, it was hard to predict sometimes. Both boys jerked back from the distance they’d closed between them. Lance breathed a nervous laugh and flashed the girl a winning smile. Keith looked away and crossed his arms over his chest as if this whole thing were beneath his cool.

“I suppose we could always do the Jello. . .” the girl trailed off her suggestion thoughtfully. Both boys twitched to share a look between each other then turned matching glares on her.

“NO!” they barked with determination. The girl blinked at them as if confused and surprised by the heat of their refusal. The only sign she knew exactly why was the subtle curl that pulled the edge of her lips in a devil’s smile.

“You could just ask the internet,” another girl, smaller than the first, spoke up from the oversized armchair across the room, half hidden behind her own screen. The glare on her glasses covered her eyes but from their angle and sound of tapping keys she was still focused on her coding, only half paying attention to the conversation. But then half a brilliant mind is still more than most.

“The. . . inter-net?” Keith said the word as if unfamiliar with the concept. Lance choked on a laugh.

“Yeah. . .” the smaller girl looked up from her screen with an arched brow then flashed an impish grin. “You know. That series of tubes built by Al Gore to end global warming.” Lance lost his hold on the laugh he’d been trying to control and fell back behind the couch in a cackling fit.

“Don’t confuse the poor boy,” the older girl purred with a maternal sound but wryness in her smile.

“I know what the internet is, _Pidge_ ” Keith bit back a growl and glared at everyone. “I just don’t see how it could help. . . this” he made a vague gesture toward the girl across the couch from him.

“Well. . .” Pidge drawled a bit as she pushed her glasses up her nose with a delicate hand then dropped it again - a brief pause for effect. Just enough time for Lance to pull himself up and blink expectantly at her from behind the couch. Now that she had everyone’s attention, she gave them all a little nod then explained. 

“You have too many big ideas to get them all done,” Pidge waved a hand at the girl on the couch. “You want to do something simple and fun” she tilted her wave to Lance and Keith. They all nodded warily at her. “So ask the internet which big idea is best and solicit some prompts for fluff,” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug as if this was the just the most obvious, logical conclusion and they were all a bit daft for not reaching it on their own.

“Huh,” the older girl huffed causing the boys to share a look of concern. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Technically you did,” Pidge dropped another logic bomb as she went back to her coding.

“Right. . . better story this way,” the older girl shrugged then put on a coy smile and turned to the fourth wall. “So. Internet~ What should I write now?”

“I don’t think that’s how-” Keith started to reason the girl away from her break but Lance grabbed his shoulder and physically pulled him back.

“Shhh. . .” Lance hissed into Keith’s ear. “Don’t provoke her,” he breathed, giving Keith a little tug to pull him off the couch, trying to sneak away.

Keith hesitated just long enough to see the expectant sincerity on the girl’s face as she stared off into the distance in front of her, like she saw something they didn’t. It sent a shiver down his spine. He gave Lance a tight nod then rolled over the arm of the couch, leaving his book behind like an offering as the two boys slunk across the room away from that unsettling gaze.

“Where are you sneaking to?” a low but gentle voice asked from down the hall as they stepped out the door. Shiro stood, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching the younger boys with a look undecided between concern and suspicion. Allura and Coran flanked him in shades of curious and wary.

“Not to. _From_ ,” Lance hissed a whisper, still feeling the need to keep his voice down. 

Shiro arched a brow with a little glance to the Alteans beside him then turned his gaze on Keith.

The boy frowned but stood a little straighter to report, “The Writer’s back.” 

Shiro recoiled with a gasping shiver and hugged his arms around himself turning haunted eyes to stare at the dim shadows that clung to corners and under shelves. He frowned and inched back from their umbral shade, something sinister to its depth, breathing whispers of forgotten words.

“Shiro?” a soft hand lighted on his shoulder and he jumped but the sympathy in cyan eyes calmed him, brought him back from the near PTSD panic. 

“I’m ok,” he breathed with a shuddered breath. Allura watched him a moment before giving a slight nod then drug her hand down his arm to lace fingers with his. He returned the gesture with a soft smile a gentle squeeze of her hand.

“So. . . she’s in there now?” Coran stepped out from behind the PDA to peer curiously around the boys by the door. 

“Yeah,” Lance drawled a bit watching Allura with Shiro in something like torn, jealous disgust. Not too dissimilar from the look Keith gave them. 

“Well then. I think it’s quite past time I introduce myself and give that scamp the old what for,” Coran gave his lapels a little tug and threw back his shoulders, mustache puffed as he took a dramatic step to the door. Keith started to reach out and stop him but Lance caught his hand.

“Just let it happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so mean to Shiro.


	3. Lone Star: Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had enough people ask for the [Lone Star Tour](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13233630) teaser/fic thing to be continued that I'm just gonna take it as somewhat of a request (garnered from comments on the teaser) for Closeted/Homophobic/Rodeo Keith.
> 
> So, here's a bit of that. Leave comments on the teaser asking for more if you want the full story to be finished. Or just request little bits like this by commenting what you'd like more of.
> 
> Lance POV, picks up the morning after where the teaser left off but can be read as a stand alone. It's better if you read the teaser first though. And then the bonus scene in Ch2 of the teaser goes at the end of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: So much cursing. And mentions of sexy times though they don't actually do anything in this one. Also homophobia though Lance is kinda just paranoid about it.
> 
> Bit of background since this is part of a larger story and some details might need explaining:  
> Prince = Lotor  
> Rednecks = Galra  
> Keith is in a country band with Lotor and currently on tour  
> Lance is a jazz musician attending the University of North Texas in Dallas  
> Hunk and Pidge are engineering majors at the University of Texas in Austin  
> Shiro is Keith's sort of brother and best friends with Matt  
> By this point Lance has known Keith about half a year, they keep crossing paths

When you move to Texas from Chicago people warn you about the prejudice, the open-carry firearms, general redneckery, and sometimes the heat. No one ever warns you about the sun. It’s just not talked about but the Texas sun is waaay brighter than what you get up north. Lance wished someone had told him that. He’d have invested in a better pair of sunglasses. Even if he wasn’t suffering from the worst hangover of his whole life, he’d still be blinded by that malicious orb glaring down at him as if to exact punishment for what he’d done last night. Not that he thought he deserved punishment, but Lance knew more than a few people that might disagree. Keith especially. Maybe. He seemed pretty into it once they got started. But Mullet-head also seemed the type to regret things the morning after. 

Lance wasn’t usually that type but he did feel a few guilty tugs of remorse himself. Mostly for how it happened. He’d not wanted things to go down like that. Lance had spent hours imagining how he’d like it to go. Not once had he hoped for a drunken hook-up in the men’s room of some seedy redneck bar. That shit’s a great way to get yourself killed. Not how you want to start a relationship with the guy you’ve been crushing on for six months. What the hell was he thinking? 

He wasn’t. 

He’d been so drunk he’d lost control of his mouth and just asked Keith if he could kiss him. Like that’s a thing guys just ask other guys out of the blue. Like his timing wasn’t completely insane. Like they weren’t surrounded by homophobic rednecks all boozed up and looking for a fight. Lance was lucky Keith had just told him to fuck off and stormed away to the bathroom. He could have shouted some choice slurs and gotten Lance a good lynching. He could have still done that when Lance followed him. Keith could have kicked Lance’s ass himself. That’s what it looked like he was going to do at first. But after claiming not to be ‘gay’ Keith had instead kissed Lance then bent him over in one of the toilet stalls. 

Lance still felt dirty for that. Not the sex part, that was surprisingly good for a guy who claimed not to be gay. The bathroom had just been filthy. So much for ambiance. Or romance. Drunk Lance hadn’t cared but hungover Lance was a little salty to have spent his first time with Keith in that cramped, disgusting, can’t make a sound for fear of death little stall. At least Lance knows Keith is open to it now. Next time will be better. 

That thought got Lance through the morning but as the hangover started to loosen its grip on his higher reasoning he started to wonder just how much Keith probably regretted what they’d done. Usually Lance would seek counsel from Hunk and/or Pidge in a situation like this. Hunk was a beautiful cinnamon roll and Pidge could be surprisingly perceptive when she wasn’t withholding information to fuck with him. Usually. But Keith had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want Lance telling anyone about what they’d done. 

_I will fucking kill you if you say anything about this. To anyone. Got it?_

Why was that so sexy? Not just because Keith had said it right after putting an end to Lance’s nearly eight month dry spell or that he’d been open shirt, sweat slicked looking down at Lance as he refastened that ridiculously large belt buckle. Something in the husky tone of voice? Maybe the look in Keith’s glare that said he really meant it? Lance was pretty sure he did. But that shouldn’t be sexy. That should be scary. Did Lance have a danger kink? Or was it just Keith? Everything that boy did was fucking hot. To Lance at least. Hunk and Pidge were beyond tired of hearing about it but Lance couldn’t help telling them how Keith had opened his eyes to the true meaning of sexy cowboy. 

Of course now Lance had to somehow manage not to tell his best friends about what might just be the single most important hook-up of his whole life. Deep down Lance knew he was being dramatic but it was too soon for him to admit that. Too soon and too much potential for other drama. So much could go horribly wrong with this. 

Lance wasn’t in the closet. He’d come out in Chicago and was comfortable with himself, even if his mama still insisted it was ‘just a phase’ he would eventually grow out of. But he’d not exactly been flaming in Texas. Hunk and Pidge both assured him he had nothing to worry about but they both lived in the liberal oasis of Austin. Not Dallas. Certainly not whatever dusty hick town Keith came from. Rationally Lance knew Texas wasn’t full of murderous homophobes on the prowl for fairies to drag into a back alley. Texas didn’t really have many alleys to begin with. And, sure, Lance hadn’t actually seen any violence. But he was pretty sure Keith’s redneck buddies were exactly the sort to strip gays naked in the middle of the night and hogtie them to playground equipment for the cops to find. At the very least they would probably kick Keith out of their band and never talk to him again if they found out. While Lance might not think that such a bad thing, he knew it would hurt Keith. 

No matter how open Lance wanted to be, Keith was in the closet and probably wouldn’t come out any time soon. Maybe never. From how he’d acted it was possible Keith hadn’t even admitted to himself that he was at least a little attracted to men. Lance could only wonder how much and if he even liked women at all. Not that it mattered. So long as Keith was attracted to _him_. Which he obviously was. Right? He wouldn’t have been so. . . aggressive last night if he wasn’t attracted. At least physically. Right? 

That was an insecurity spiral he’d usually need Hunk to pull him out of but Lance couldn’t even tell his best friend. He’d promised. Maybe he could be vague about it, not use names and pretend to have just gotten a random hook-up? No. Hunk would figure it out. Lance was afraid to even make eye contact with Pidge. She’d smell it on him somehow. Lance had never before been happier to live 200 miles from his friends. At least the distance would help him keep the secret. Until the weekend. When he’d see them. Lance needed to figure this out before then or he wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. 

Which is why he was outside under the afternoon sun staring at a red and black motorcycle parked in front of quite possibly the dingiest motel Lance had ever seen. If not for the motorcycle Lance would have thought Shiro had given him the wrong address, probably didn’t buy his lie about needing to return an amp cord. But that was definitely Keith’s bike, scraped tank and all. On the upside Lance was pretty sure Keith would be alone in there. No one in their right mind would walk into that place. Certainly not Prince and the Klan. They may be rednecks but Lance had seen their bus. It was much better than this. Why the fuck was Keith here? 

Only one way to find out. 

Lance braced for, well he wasn’t quite sure what but it would probably be bad, then gave the door a quick knock. There was no answer. Lance hesitated a bit before knocking again, louder this time. He had to knock even louder but got a response the third time. A groggy voice barked from inside. 

“ _Cállate. No limpieza. Vete_.” 

It only vaguely sounded like Keith and even less like Spanish but Lance still found that butchering of his native language to be absolutely adorable. Damn. He had it bad. Usually he would be at least a little offended for the implied racism. 

“Not the cleaning lady, man,” Lance called back through the door with another little knock. 

He got a grunt in response with some ruffling, a few heavy footsteps then the door jerked open as Keith barked in English this time, “What the fuck do you want?” 

Usually Lance would be put off by the rude greeting but this was Keith. This was Keith with bed hair wearing just a pair of red boxers and a wife beater. Lance could see the bruise he’d put on Keith’s collarbone the night before. He had a matching one under his own shirt. And that was ridiculously distracting. 

“Huh. It’s you,” Keith grunted once his eyes adjusted enough to the harsh light so he could recognize Lance. It was probably just Lance’s imagination that Keith seemed to soften a little for it. Probably. It was still very distracting. The flat glare Keith gave him for just standing there like an idiot only made that worse. Fuck he had it bad. 

“Come in or go away, dipshit,” Keith grumbled in the silence Lance let hang between them. Then he turned away and stepped back from the door, letting it hang open like Lance’s mouth that damn near hit the floor. The scratch marks on Keith’s shoulders were impressive. Lance didn’t remember being that rough but, well, Keith wasn’t exactly gentle either. 

“Close the fucking door,” Keith threw a pillow at Lance to snap him out of it. Lance caught the pillow with his face then fumbled to pick it up as he stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. His mind kept screaming at him, unable to decide if he should be more disturbed by the mold smell or giddy about being alone in a motel room with Keith already half undressed. 

“Soooo. . .” Keith drawled to get Lance’s attention, not that he wasn’t already hyper focused on those sculpted abs that showed so much better through the tight undershirt than they ever did in his usual western wear. But Keith probably wanted the focus more on his face, which somehow managed to still be gorgeous despite the dark circles under his eyes. 

“You look like shit,” Lance’s mouth went a little too far in filtering the crush out of what he’d meant to say. 

“Back at ya,” Keith grumbled then looked away for a brief moment of what almost looked like self consciousness as he drug a hand through his hair. It did nothing to tame the epic cowlick but everything to melt Lance’s heart all over again. 

“Yeah,” Lance huffed a weak laugh and mimicked the gesture. “Kind of a wild night. . . ya know. Last night.” 

“Yeah,” Keith frowned then shrugged it off and looked back at Lance. “So what’d you want?” 

“I. . . uh. I guess just to, you know. Make sure you’re ok?” Lance made it a question. 

Keith’s brow twitched the way it did when something unexpected happened. There was a brief pause while he considered how to react to that then settled on a shrug. “Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.” 

“Cool. So. Yeah. Uh. . . ” Lance grunted, filling the silence as he tried to settle on a reaction to Keith’s lack of one. “Fun times. . .” This wasn’t going how he’d pictured it. At least Keith didn’t seem mad but. . . “Why aren’t you with the rest of the band in the bus?” _Please don’t say they kicked you out because of me._

“You mean the Fuck Wagon?” Keith gave him a flat look as if to indicate what he thought about that, and it wasn’t good. 

Lance blinked, his mind reeling a bit. “The what?” 

Keith shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t stay on the bus cuz those guys are assholes and I don’t wanna listen to whatever stupid skank whore Prince is banging. On the couch. The couch that I’m supposed to sleep on.” 

“Oh,” Lance huffed. “That’s. . .” not what he was expecting. “Fucked up.” 

“No shit,” Keith deadpanned as he flopped down on the edge of the bed. Lance stood awkwardly by the door a moment then shuffled closer to sort of sit/lean against the little desk across from the bed. 

“Why do you put up with that, man?” Lance asked to break the silence. 

“They get good gigs,” Keith shrugged it off. 

“Dude. I’m a musician. You can’t tell me those shitty kicker dives pay their musicians well.” 

“Well enough. More’n I could make solo,” Keith shrugged again as he lifted his jeans off the floor. “And Prince’s dad puts me up when we’re not on tour.” 

“Puts you up?” Lance arched a brow. The fuck does that mean? 

“Roof an’ four walls,” Keith answered as if it was obvious, casually pulling his pants on. “Sends food ‘n’ sundries every two weeks.” 

“Uuh. . .” Lance just stared, caught between watching Keith get dressed and deciphering the cryptic redneck code he must be talking. “That’s. . . why?” 

“I work their range,” Keith shrugged on a black snap shirt. “It’s out in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Range?” Lance tilted his head trying not to be obvious about watching Keith as he snapped up his shirt. 

Keith didn’t seem to notice and just answered, “Couple hundred thousand acres of grassland with about thirty thousand head of cattle.” 

“That. . . sounds like a lot,” Lance rather eloquently observed while Keith tucked his shirt in. 

“Not so bad,” Keith shrugged as he picked up his belt from the nightstand. “I just got my part of it. Ride the fence every morning, count the herd, make sure none of ‘em go missin’ an fix whatever’s broke.” 

“Wait,” Lance blinked, the reality of what Keith was saying finally sank in. “So you’re like, an actual cowboy. Not just the rodeo stuff but you actually herd cows for a living?” 

“Cattle,” Keith corrected with an arched brow, glancing up at Lance briefly before dropping his eyes again to finish with his belt buckle. “But yeah. When the band’s not touring I work the range.” 

“That’s a thing? Cowboys still exist?” Lance failed to hide the excitement from his voice. Keith gave him a flat look for it. 

“Where do you think beef comes from?” 

“Uuh. . .” Lance was caught off guard by the question so all he could come up with was, “Cows?” 

“And where do cows live?” Keith asked like he was talking to a five year old. 

“Pastures?” Lance couldn’t help keeping the question out of it. 

“Ranges,” Keith shook his head with a little roll of his eyes as he snatched his boots up from the corner. “Less yer talkin’ bout that high density shit but tha EPA don’t like that an’ neither do tha cattle.” He started to almost lecture as he stomped the boots on. “You want good beef ya range ‘em. Do that ya need cowboys ta keep the dumb things from gettin’ themselves killed.” Keith paused a moment with a glance to Lance’s confused expression. “Cows are stupid.” 

“Huh. . .” Lance huffed still a bit confused but not really sure which part threw him most, that Keith actually talked a whole paragraph or any number of things he just said. Or that accent. He decided to let it go and ask instead, “How did I not know this?” 

“Cuz yer a damn Yankee,” Keith huffed a little laugh with the grumbled insult. He smiled when he said it though. 

“Redneck,” Lance shot back with a little glare over his own smile. Keith arched a brow for it then broke into a real laugh. It was contagious and Lance couldn’t help but join in. It only lasted a few moments but they were both a lot more relaxed for it. Both smiling and comfortable with each other again. 

Lance nudged Keith’s shoulder when the laughing started to die down, “Man. I’m glad things aren’t gonna be awkward.” 

“Awkward?” Keith arched a brow, sobering a little but hadn’t lost his smile. 

“Yeah. After last night,” Lance tried to be casual about the subject. “Spent all morning worried how you’d be today.” 

“Uuuh. . .” Keith’s smile wilted into awkward confusion. 

“Cuz of what we did. Last night,” Lance tried not to panic but what the fuck? 

“Ah. . . yeah.” Keith pulled away slightly, shoulders tensing up as he crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off again. “I. . . uh. . . Hope I didn’t get you in trouble?” 

Lance blinked. “Why would _I_ be the one in trouble?” 

“Ummm. . . yeah,” Keith hesitated. Floundered a bit in his own subtle way. Then shook his head with a frown and just asked, “Did I punch you or something?” 

Lance just stared at the confusion on the other boy’s face. “You. . . don’t remember?” 

Keith actually cringed then put on a guilty smile. “Sorry,” he shrugged. “Haven’t been that drunk in a long time. But I know I can get kinda. . . mean when I drink.” He trailed off a bit into a mutter, looking away, unable to meet Lance’s eyes. “So. Yeah. Whatever I did it was just the whiskey.” 

“You don’t remember,” Lance’s voice was barely a whisper. He couldn’t believe this. Of all the ways he’d thought it could go he’d never even considered _this_. 

“Yeah. . .” Keith drawled with another shrug. “Sorry. Last thing I remember we were trading insults about your bitch drinks.” 

Oh no he did not. Lance’s eyes narrowed to an icy glare. “There is nothing wrong with a cocktail.” 

“Says the bitch,” Keith pulled his eyes up to meet Lance’s with a meek little smile. Fucking meek. Fuck. That was something Lance thought he would never see and it was devastating. Dammit. He wanted to kiss the guilt and insecurity right off those falling lips. Of course Keith couldn’t read minds so the smile was dying in the silence as Lance wrangled his libido into not throwing the boy down on that cheap, lumpy bed right now. 

“Ha,” Lance forced out a tight sound that might be mistaken for a laugh then shook his head. “You’re the one who blacked out.” 

Keith blinked then frowned. “I was drinking straight whiskey. Probably had twice the actual alcohol you did.” 

“Nah,” Lance held up a hand into Keith’s face. “ _You_ blacked out. Black out doesn’t get to say a damn thing ‘bout who had what.” 

Keith glared, fire in those midnight eyes, but he didn’t argue. He just huffed, “Whatever,” and pushed the hand away. He really didn’t remember. What. The. Fuck. “There’s a grease burger joint a few blocks down,” Keith picked up his keys and stepped toward the door, paused only a moment to glance back at Lance. “Come with or get out,” he pushed the door open and held it. 

Lance just blinked. Was Keith inviting him to lunch? Just the two of them? Keith’s expression started to turn impatient so Lance almost jumped to the door, barely managing to dial it back to a quick step. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. Lance really didn’t want his first time with Keith to be in that literal shithole. If Keith didn’t remember then they kind of had a second a chance. At least now Lance knew that Keith was attracted to him. . . right? Maybe. . . it couldn’t have all been the whiskey. Could it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments sustain me so please leave some. 
> 
> Feel free to request more of these two idjits. 
> 
> Also, have a bonus scene in Ch2 of the [teaser](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13233630) cuz I didn't want all those that subscribed there to miss out on this.


	4. Hermanos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times the team didn’t, 1 they did notice . . .   
> _  
> Shiro was reluctant to give in to a request for naps but agreed with a sigh. “We’re all tired and hungry so let’s break formation and get back to the Castle for a little rest.”_
> 
> _“Alright! Naps~” Lance crowed then just couldn’t help adding, “Cuz Keith gets cranky when he’s tired.”_
> 
> _“Lance,” Shiro snapped a warning but Pidge cut in, just as done with them._
> 
> _“Grow up, Lance. Nobody cares about your stupid rivalry.” There was just enough pause for Lance to scoff before Pidge cut him off again. “Besides, we’re all adopted. Shiro’s too young to be our real Dad.”  
> _  
>  This one’s a request for Anon! But cuz I love subtlety and not spoiling things, I won’t tell you what the request was till the end. That way you can figure it out along with the characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. . . this got away from me. I couldn’t just do something simple and straightforward so decided to take the chance of having a 5/1 to work on my voicing. Each part is written from a different POV with an attempt to get that characters’ voice across as the narrator without going full first person. Some are better than others but it was interesting to see which ones I had trouble with and which came more naturally. I’m curious which ones y’all think that was.
> 
> I wanna give a shout to Anon for requesting this. It was so much fun to write and I really enjoyed working in all the subtle details. Hope y’all pick them up but that it isn’t too obvious. . . though if you speak Spanish it’s pretty much given away.
> 
> Speaking of Spanish, I don’t speak it so if you do (especially if you’re Cuban) please leave a comment to correct my translations. I’ll go ahead and apologize for how bad they probably are.
> 
> #### Please leave a comment!
> 
> Comments keep me writing and without them I default to thinking my stuff sucks then lose the will to continue.

#### 1: Hunk, Remember You

This was insane. Hunk didn’t even want to leave their room let alone run off into the desert chasing after a . . . whatever that was that just fell out of the sky. Alien spaceship? Was that an alien spaceship? The only sneaking he wanted to do was into the commissary for a late night snack, not into a quarantine tent to rescue a presumed dead pilot that had been missing for almost a year. Missing in space. With aliens apparently. And now there’s explosions! This can not end well. He was only half paying attention when Lance snatched the binoculars from Pidge’s pile of tech then practically shouted. 

“No way! Oh, he is not gonna beat us in there. That guy is always trying to one up me.” 

Hunk couldn’t see the guy’s face for the distance and Lance was running away with the binoculars so he called after, “Who is it?” 

“Keith,” was the simple answer. Hunk should have known. 

Pidge wasn’t aware of their history so asked, “Who?” as Hunk started to jog after Lance. 

“Are you sure?” Hunk doubted Lance’s eyesight. He was always imagining things where Keith was concerned. 

“Oh I’d recognize that mullet anywhere.” Lance had been wrong about this before but Hunk wasn’t about to let him run into. . . whatever this was alone. 

Pidge followed too, still asking, “Who’s Keith?” as they half slid, half ran down the rocky slope toward the quarantine tent. 

“Only the biggest asshole on the planet,” Lance answered in his usual way of hyperbole and dramatics. 

“He was the top pilot in our class till he washed out,” Hunk elaborated, “Lance had this weird one sided rivalry with him though he was like ten spots higher than Lance and never even spoke to us-” 

“Never spoke to you!” Lance cut off the rest of Hunk’s explanation. “That bastard was always rubbing his greatness in my face.” 

Hunk gave the back of Lance’s head a flat look as they slowed down in front of the quarantine tent. “He told you to leave him alone. I don’t think that counts as gloating.” 

Lance shot a glare over his shoulder for that. “He didn’t do it in front of you! Crafty _pequeña mierda. Él me tiene hasta el último pelo!_.” The obviously cursing trailed off as Lance pushed aside a plastic curtain and marched into the quarantine tent ahead of them. Pidge arched a brow then gave Hunk a flat look. 

“So. . .” Pidge drawled, “Keith is the popular kid Lance has a crush on?” 

Hunk choked back a laugh while also glancing at the curtain to be sure Lance didn’t hear that before nodding with a little shrug. “Pretty much.” 

“Figures,” Pidge huffed then stepped inside. Hunk followed after and they caught up to Lance staring at a red jacketed mullet-head cutting the presumed dead pilot off an examination table. Well damn. It really was Keith. 

“Nope. No y- nonono. No you don’t.” Lance came back to his senses. “I’m saving Shiro.” 

“Who are you?” Keith glanced between the three before settling an irritated gaze on Lance as the other boy ducked under the pilot’s other arm. 

“Who am I? Seriously?” Lance huffed with offense. Keith just arched a brow. “The name’s Lance.” He even gave a few quick blinks, almost like batting his eyes. Wow. Pidge might really be onto something about that crush. But Keith just kept up that incomprehensible stare. “Oh come on. It’s not been that long!” Lance’s face scrunched into an almost disgusted glare but Keith just raised his other brow for it. Lance huffed in exasperation, the glare melting to shock. “We were even in the same class at the Garrison!” 

Keith’s brows dropped to a slightly flat look and he finally responded. “Really,” it didn’t sound like a question. “Are you, uh, an engineer?” That part did sound like a question but it had a little bite. No doubt Keith was getting impatient. Being in the middle of a rescue and all. Hunk was about to remind Lance of this but didn’t speak up fast enough before Lance snapped. 

“Oh now- No, asshole. I’m a pilot. We were like rivals,” Lance leaned across the man between them as if to get into the other boy’s face. “Lance and Keith, neck and neck.” Keith just gave him a cold stare. Lance pulled back with a huff and looked away, “Stop pretending you don’t remember.” 

“Oh wait,” Keith deadpanned. “I do remember you,” there was a brief pause, just enough for Lance to make eye contact again then Keith said with perfect calm. “You’re a cargo pilot.” 

Lance jerked as if hit, looking away then shifted the pilot’s weight on his shoulder before huffing, “Well, not anymore.” He looked back with a glare toward Keith. “I’m fighter class now, thanks to you washing out.” 

Keith’s eye twitched subtly and he turned his face away with a little huff of his own then stepped forward to get them moving. “Well congratulations.” 

At least Lance didn’t bite back and started moving now. This was so not the time for whatever that was and Hunk didn’t really want to think about it. Lance had always been dramatic and Keith hadn’t been known for his people skills. At least not in a good way. Right now, the soldiers were coming back and that was way more important than whatever was going on between those two. They had to get out of there before they all got washed out. Or worse, put in prison. Or mind wiped. They were stealing alien tech from a quarantined area. Hunk had noticed the pilot’s arm. That was bad news. The kind of thing people disappeared for stumbling across and they were actually stealing it. Oh this was going to be a bad day. . . and now there’s a hover bike that’s much too small for everyone. 

####  2: Shiro, Cuts Deep

They can do this. It’s not that hard. Practice makes perfect. Patience yields focus. Shiro took a deep breath and forced the bubbling doubt out of mind, hoping it hadn’t leaked over into the weird alien technology induced psychic bond he was currently sharing with four teenagers. “Ok, guys. We need to focus.” he spoke over the coms struggling to make it sound more encouraging than frustrated. “We’ll never beat Zarkon if we can’t all work as one. Hunk. Lance. Focus on keeping us stable for now. Keith. Pidge. Try and see what we can do.” 

“Maybe if we can get two steps without falling,” Keith grumbled over everyone else’s less than enthusiastic affirmations for the order. 

“It’s not our fault!” Hunk whined with tears in his eyes, “You put us off balance with all that. . . flailing!” 

“You’re the legs. Your only job is to keep us standing,” Keith all but growled and they could feel his irritation. 

“Oh yeah, Mullet,” Lance bit back, “Why don’t you leave Hunk alone cuz that’s some real great teamwork you got there.” 

“It’s not my fault you can’t do your job!” Keith snapped with a fiery flare of anger. Honestly, Shiro was surprised it took this long. Half of his interactions with Keith in his first year at the garrison had been pulling the boy away from fights. 

“Keith,” Shiro made sure his voice was firm but gentle, like talking down an angry dog. . . he really hoped that thought didn’t transfer. “It’s nobody’s fault. Now let’s all work together.” 

“Yeah,” Lance cut in and Shiro wished the boy would just shut up. “Like Mamma says, it’s not our fault but it is our problem so get-” 

“It is your fault, Lance!” Keith hissed with more than heat this time. Shiro could have sworn there was an edge of jealousy but it was brief and might have been from Lance. It was hard to tell sometimes and Keith was still yelling. “You’re the one that put us on our back with that - what was it? A high kick?” 

“Keith,” Shiro warned even though he was pretty sure it would be ignored. Especially when Lance kept replying. 

“Hey, we’re trying down here. What are you doing?” 

“Piloting. Or don’t you know what that is. Cargo,” Keith used his cold voice so Shiro knew that was meant to hurt but he didn’t expect it to cut so deep as it did. Lance hissed like he’d been burned and they all felt it through the Lions’ connection. 

“Keith!” Shiro barked this time. It was escalating dangerously. They were going to lose the connection and he wasn’t sure they’d be able to form Voltron again today. 

“Hah. . .” Lance wheezed, recovering from his burn to bite back. “Y-Yeah, well. At least I’m not adopted!” That really hurt Keith. They all felt the icy chill of an old wound he was obviously sensitive about. Shiro knew why but hadn’t thought Lance was aware of it. Keith didn’t share his personal history often. But they were both so good at finding each other’s triggers. 

“Lance! That was uncall-” Shiro started to repremand Lance but Keith cut him off adding fire to the fight with a huff. 

“Momma’s boy.” 

Lance gasped at the insult then hissed back, “Stray.” 

“ENOUGH!” Shiro shouted at both of them. He was so done with this. It was like driving the bus at summer camp all over again. “One more word from either of you and I swear to God I will turn this robot around.” Shiro realised how ridiculous that sounded as he said it but was too tired to stop at this point. He tried to ignore the amusement bubbling through their connection like a giggle from Pidge, or maybe Hunk. Both? Oh, now they were all doing it. “Seriously, guys. Insults are not good for the team,” Shiro grumbled a bit to keep them from actually laughing. It didn’t work. 

Hunk broke first with a wheezy little hiss of a choked laugh he was still trying to contain but Pidge just gave up and let loose a cackle. An actual cackle. Lance couldn’t help a sputter for that and Shiro even saw Keith hide a grin on the view screen. That psychic connection hid nothing though and the laughter really was infectious. 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up,” Shiro allowed himself a few controlled chuckles and was about to try getting the team back on task when Hunk cut in. 

“Sorry, Shiro but. . . Just. Aw man,” he broke for another laugh before reigning it in to continue. “I think we might be a little deliriously tired. Right? And I don’t know about you guys but I am very aware that we skipped lunch.” 

“Oh man, yeah,” Lance couldn’t keep his mouth shut but at least he wasn’t baiting Keith. “I could go for about a gallon of something with both sugar and caffeine right now. Or a nap. Can we take a nap, Shiro?” 

They weren’t really getting anything done like this but Shiro was reluctant to give in to a request for naps. He had to remind himself these were cadets, not soldiers, before he agreed with a sigh. “Ok. Yeah. We’re all tired and hungry so let’s break formation and get back to the Castle for a little rest.” 

“Alright! Naps~” Lance crowed as they pulled apart then just couldn’t help adding, “Cuz Keith gets cranky when he’s tired.” 

“Lance,” Shiro snapped a warning and hoped Keith wouldn’t fire back even if it was true. He didn’t get a chance though as Pidge cut in, just as done with them. 

“Grow up, Lance. Nobody cares about your stupid rivalry.” There was just enough pause for Lance to scoff and almost say something back before Pidge cut him off again, impish smile on the screen. “Besides, we’re all adopted. Shiro’s too young to be our real Dad.” 

Just like summer camp. Shiro turned off his coms with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose to rub out some of the tension. This was going to be a long mission. 

####  3: Pidge, Sí Habla Español

The last raid for information had been a shit show but at least Pidge had a few million records to sort through now. If only the Galra’s data tables weren’t such an unholy mess. Who the fuck did this? Why is there a new entry for every relocation assignment? That should be a separate table or at least an array. And the ids aren’t even an integer! How does a civilization conquer most of the known universe if they can’t even design a halfway decent database? Did they do this on purpose? That must be it. They are evil after all. They’ve got torture built right into their data for anyone who dares try to steal it. 

Pidge only half heard Lance say something over her head, too focused on the code scrolling over her screen to really give him attention. She heard enough to know it was in Spanish though which she always assumed meant that it was so bad he didn’t want the rest of the team to know what he’d said. Of course that made no sense. If he didn’t want them to hear it why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Other than the obvious possibility that Lance was physically incapable of shutting up. She would still rather he at least try and was about to tell him so when Keith grumbled from his corner. 

“That has never been funny, Lance.” 

This was enough of an anomaly for Pidge to pull her head out of the code and look up. Keith had his arms crossed over his chest and was sukling as usual. Lance was gawking at him as if he’d just grown a second head. Everyone else on the bridge had also focused some variant of confused to curious stare on the poor guy. He dropped his eyes to the ground and tensed up for it but really he should know better than to open his mouth like that if he doesn’t want to get stared at. Of course Lance only took a few seconds to rise to the bait - real or imagined. 

“What are you talking about? I’m always funny.” Lance preened a moment, ignoring the way Allura rolled her eyes, then shot Keith an accusing stare, “Do you even know what I said?” 

“Lance, don’t start an argument,” Shiro tried to defuse, even using his Dad voice for it but Keith just slowly drug his eyes up from the floor to level a dead expression on Lance then repeated the words in perfect Spanish. At least that’s what Pidge assumed he did given the sputtering blush that put on Lance’s face. She was pretty sure the statement was off color. 

Hunk hid an “Ooooh~” behind a hand and got a quick glare from Lance for it as Shiro shook his head in disappointment but Lance spoke up before the Dad voice came out again. 

“Ok. And? Do you know what that means?” Lance nearly squeaked, veiled desperation in his eyes. Pidge really wanted a translation now and gave Keith an expectant grin but the boy disappointed her as well. Instead of English he just spoke more Spanish. 

“ _Sabes que hablo español. No ha sido tan largo._ ” 

Lance balked for this and cast a shocked stare around the room, as if maybe the ship’s translators had suddenly learned Spanish even though it had been long established the only Earth language they knew was English for some reason. Everyone else returned some form of shrug. Even Shiro didn’t seem to know quite what was going on and had given up on stopping them. So Lance turned back to Keith then huffed, “ _Si, bueno, olvidaste todo lo demás, ¿por qué no el lenguaje?_ ” 

“ _No lo olvide. Supusiste que no te reconocí y tenía prisa, así que no quería. . ._ ” Keith glared but trailed off with a little hesitation before finishing. “ _lidiar con eso._ ” 

Lance jerked like whatever Keith said had been unexpectedly hurtful, “ _no quería lidiar con eso?_ ” 

Keith’s brow furrowed in something like confusion or maybe guilt and Shiro was two ticks from stepping in again but Pidge was done with this. She had too much work to do and didn’t like not knowing what was being said. So she cleared her throat and threw a screwdriver at Lance when that didn’t get his attention. Of course it got everyone’s attention but Pidge didn’t care so long as those two idiots were listening. 

“Not to interrupt. . . whatever this is,” she waved a hand at the tension between the two then went on. “But could you not talk over my head. Or at least do it in a language the rest of us can understand.” 

Keith withdrew with a frown, looking away and sinking into himself again. Lance blinked and let his eyes drift over the room. “Yeah, course,” he huffed a little laugh after a moment looking back to Pidge with a forced smile scrubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, Pidgeon.” 

“And don’t call me that!” she snapped at him, reaching for another something to throw but Shiro caught her hand before she could. 

“So. Ah. . . what did you say?” Hunk asked what all of them were thinking, maybe to keep Pidge from fighting Shiro about throwing the wrench she managed to grab with her other hand. Lance just blinked and would later deny the blush that rose on his cheeks while Keith took this as a cue to evade the conversation and just walked out. 

Lance gaped for the abandonment then chased after him, calling as he shoved through the door, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going. We were talking!” 

Shiro exchanged an exasperated glance with Allura as Pidge shouted after them, “Oh, just kiss already!” 

####  4: Allura, Lullaby

She should talk to Keith. It seemed such a simple thing, should be a simple thing, but Keith had never been approachable. Allura forced herself not to blame that on his Galra heritage. Shiro had assured her that some humans could be even more anti-social than Keith and the boy had his reasons for the way he behaved. Allura wished she had asked Shiro what those reasons were, maybe it would help her understand Keith better, but now it was too late. Shiro was gone. 

A pained curse pulled Allura out of her thoughts as she stepped up to the training deck’s observation window. Below her Keith was rolling back to his feet after a nasty hit from the gladiator bot. Of course he would be here, pushing his body to exhaustion trying to burn off his problems. Allura frowned. How many times in those last few years had she found her father here, pushing himself. It seems Red Paladins never dealt well with losing their Black. She shook her head and watched quietly as Keith took down the bot with a savage swing from that Galra blade he carried, the Marmora’s weapon. Broken parts sparked as the gladiator fell through the floor. Keith leaned on his knees catching his breath. Allura reached for the com button to call him out so they could talk but another voice beat her to it. 

“Hey, Buddy. You doin’ ok?” Lance asked gently as he stepped into view. Allura hesitated, watching Keith tense and turn away. 

“I’m fine,” Keith almost snapped as he rolled a shoulder, stretching tight muscles. He looked so tired. 

“You don’t look it,” Lance huffed a bit for the sharpness. 

“Like you would know,” Keith did snap this time, half turning to glare at Lance. Allura rolled her eyes. She’d thought they had gotten past this. 

Lance’s shoulders drooped and his posture suddenly sagged. Allura could only imagine his expression, back turned to her, but she was certain it must have been comically dejected. Keith just huffed a bitter sound and turned away again but Lance pulled himself back up and stepped closer. “I know you, Keith. I thought we were past pretending-” but Keith cut him off. 

“You don’t know, Lance! You’ve never lost anyone.” There was enough pain and heat in the words to make Allura flinch but Lance only shook his head with a tired sigh and closed the distance to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith shrugged it off but turned to face the other boy with a clenched jaw and heavy glare. For a moment Allura worried that Keith might hit Lance, he looked so angry, but Lance didn’t so much as blink. 

“It’s not your fault,” Lance spoke with a genuine sincerity Allura had not known him capable of. Keith’s glare faltered but he refused to give it up and started to turn away. Lance put both hands on his shoulders to hold him there and leaned a little closer. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” 

Keith’s glare cracked into a wounded expression but it was brief, only a moment, almost too fast for Allura to notice before he pulled away from Lance’s touch with a biting hiss, “This wouldn’t have happened if Shiro was here.” 

Lance shook his head with a sigh and let Keith take a few steps back. “That isn’t your fault either, Mullet. You can’t keep blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens.” 

“Yeah well. Maybe not my fault but it’s still my problem,” Keith hissed. “I can’t do this like Shiro. I’m not a leader, Lance. I never have been. You know that.” 

“What, cuz the football team got trounced the year they tried to make you captain?” Lance huffed a laugh then shook his head and tried to step closer. “Come on Keith, you-” 

“Because people died, Lance!” Keith stepped back, keeping the distance between them. “We took too long forming Voltron and people died.” 

Lance faltered for the gravity of those words but he had never been one to let Keith beat him down. Instead he stepped up and spoke with gentle sincerity. “It’s a war, Keith. People die.” 

“You think I don’t know that!” Keith shoved Lance back with a graceless flail, more frustration than force. 

“I know you do,” Lance spoke soft and stood his ground, “But it isn’t your fault.” 

“If Shiro-” Keith started to hiss but Lance cut him off. 

“Shiro isn’t here. You have to let that go, Keith.” 

“But-” 

“I understand. He was like a brother to you,” something shifted in Lance’s eyes, some old pain that he shook off and hid under a gentle smile as Keith grit his jaw for the words. Lance only smiled softer. “I know what it feels like to lose a brother.” 

“No you-” 

“Keith,” Lance clapped both hands over the other boy’s shoulders again, held him at arm’s length. Keith started to pull away but Lance held him tight, making eye contact with a serious expression. “We’re family. Stop pretending we’re not.” 

Keith’s brow furrowed and there was hesitation, a pause to accept the words but Allura saw the moment when he did. His whole presence changed. Tense shoulders dropped as that strong facade crumbled. “Lance. . . I. . .” Keith’s voice cracked, a tear fell down his cheek unbidden. “I’m sorry.” 

Lance blinked for the reaction, almost as surprised as Allura, but recovered and put on a gentle smile. “It’s ok,” he pulled Keith into a hug, patting his back lightly. Keith tensed at first but melted into it after another muttered, “It’s ok.” Lance just held him a while, silent as the other boy hid his face on his shoulder, shaking slightly as he cried. Lance didn’t say a word for longer than Allura had ever seen him be quiet. It was Keith that spoke first. 

“I want to go home,” Keith’s voice was hoarse and shaky as he spoke into Lance’s neck. “I miss the water. The waves. Moonlight _en la playa. Tu madre cantando a los niños para dormir._ ” 

Lance’s expression went distant as Keith spoke but he nodded slowly, “Me too, buddy. Me too.” He hesitated a moment in the silence that fell over them again then brushed a hand idly over Keith’s hair. It was such a gentle, caring gesture Allura wasn’t sure how Keith would react but he just hugged Lance tighter for it, shoulders shaking again. 

Lance closed his eyes with a sigh then started to sway slightly, almost a rocking motion as he took a deep breath then began to sing. “ _Arruru mi niño, arruru mi amor / Arruru pedazo de mi corazón._ ” Keith let out a choked sob and held Lance tighter still but it didn’t stop. Lance just kept up the rocking sway and continued to sing, “ _Este niño lindo que nació de noche. . ._ ” 

He had a beautiful voice, it was a beautiful song, but Allura started to feel uncomfortable watching what was obviously a very intimate moment between the two. She’d known they had grown closer as parts of a team and even more so since Shiro’s loss. Lance had supported Keith, helped him to lead, but Allura had no idea their relationship was so. . . romantic. She wondered how long they had been together as she left them alone in the training room. 

####  5: Coran, Still Your Favorite

It had been much too long since the Earthlings had come together. With Keith off working for the Blades, the elder Holt helping the rebellion, and the Paladins of Voltron on a tight schedule of diplomacy, shows, and the occasional heroics, there hadn’t been much time for leisure activities. But that’s exactly what they needed right now. Of course it might have been better if Coran had thought to plan some sort of group activity before letting the children loose on the resort planet that closely resembled one of Earth’s tropical regions. 

Pidge and Matt ran off to the technology sector, much to distracted with each other’s presence to really notice anything else. Hunk immediately followed his stomach toward the food, pulling Lance along with him. Shiro tried to invite Keith to accompany him with Allura but the boy said they deserved some time alone together and for some reason that made Shiro blush like a gorbast. Coran decided he would worry about that later. Right now it was his duty to make sure that the former Red Paladin completed his mission to relax. 

This proved a much more challenging task than anticipated. 

The Galra had always been formidable warriors but they had never really quite grasped the concept of recreation, something Altea had been famous for and the humans appeared to have at least a decent hold on. Keith seemed to have forgotten all of that. His time with the Blades had made him about as much fun as a vortree in a swing season. Which is not very. 

The boy had declined every offer of shopping in the vast market and rolled his eyes at the notion of conversing with the local females. He showed no interest in the concert halls or popping off to catch a bout of the local sports and didn’t even seem curious about dances. After turning down the Siruvian masseuse (they’ve got six arms!) Coran was beginning to run out of ideas. He was about to give in and just ask Keith what the boy wanted to do when Lance came bounding up from the markets with a manic grin across his face. 

“KeithKeithKeith~” Lance practically squealed as he latched bodily onto the young Blade’s arm. Keith arched a brow and might have brushed the other boy off if Lance hadn’t began to pull. “You have got to see this!” Number Three insisted as he drug Keith away. Coran was puzzled. He knew all the Paladins had missed Keith since he left them to join the Blade of Marmora but this was unusual even for Lance. That Keith allowed it only added to the curiosity so Coran decided to follow the boys through the crowd of the main markets to their outer edge where the shops were more ‘authentic’ than ‘tourist trap’ but also significantly less clean. 

Coran was about to call them back toward safer parts when Keith stopped to stare past the shabby little shops toward a white sand beach beyond. Lance stopped with him, a knowing smile spread across his lips for the distant expression on the other boy’s face. 

“Yeah,” Lance tilted a slow nod as he turned to watch the waves a moment too but he’d never been one for silence so it didn’t last long before he gave Keith a little shove to get him going again. Keith resisted a moment, pointing toward the beach with a conflicted expression and opened his mouth to say something but Lance cut him off. “Oh that’s just the half of it. Come on,” he pushed the other boy toward the shops. Coran followed Keith’s pointing to give the beach a quick study but it looked just like any ordinary beach to him. He couldn’t puzzle out why Keith kept glancing back as Lance practically shoved him into one of the little wagons near the shops. 

“Look~” Lance squeed when Keith gave him a glare for the collision. It was probably the childlike enthusiasm in the sound that caused Keith’s eyes to follow Lance’s pointed finger toward a small pile of cone shaped. . . leaves? Coran could only guess they were a sort of food by merrit of being on a food cart. Keith eyed it a moment then arched a brow. 

“Is that-” 

“ _Cucurucho_ ~” Lance squealed with a manic nod. 

“Huh. . .” Keith huffed a considering sound then leaned slightly closer. “They do look like it,” he lifted one by the string on top to dangle in front of his face then gave it a subtle sniff. “Have you tried it?” 

“Without you? Of course not,” Lance grinned. Keith blinked then gave him an odd look. Lance’s grin faltered and he lifted his brows. “They’re still your favorite, right?” 

Keith’s brow twitched, a brief surprise, then his face softened into one of those rare smiles he seemed to reserve for special occasions. Coran had no idea what caused it but he was relieved to see that Keith could still smile. Of course it didn’t last long, never did, before he shrugged it off, “I guess.” He looked away from Lance to study the odd little thing dangled from a string. “Probably not as good as the ones back home though.” There was almost a haughty challenge in his tone as a taunting grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“Duh,” Lance laughed. “Abuela’s not here to make them. But they can’t be worse than food goo, right?” The serious expression Lance put on at the end might have offended Coran but he’d long since gotten over the human’s lack of appreciation for Altean cuisine. Keith didn’t have to agree though. 

“Right. . .” he drawled with a slow nod then added, “assuming they’re not toxic.” 

“Only one way to find out.” Lance shrugged then handed the shopkeeper over half the coins Coran had given him to spend and got seven of the strange cones in return. Keith arched a brow. 

“I could have got that.” 

“Nah, bro. You’re visiting.” Lance waved the notion off as he held out one of the cones. 

Keith took it with a shrug, “Technically we’re both visiting.” 

“Shut up and eat the damn thing,” Lance deadpanned with a flat look. 

Keith flashed a brief grin but hesitated a moment as he turned the leafy cone over in his hands, removing the string. He glanced up briefly looking toward the beach again and muttered, “Those do look like coconut trees. . .” then carefully peeled back the outer leaf wrapping to reveal a brownish mush inside. Lance watched in rapt attention as Keith gave the mush a cautious sniff glancing to the other boy and getting a nod from him before taking a tiny bite, more of a lick really. Keith blinked at the taste. Lace worried his hands. 

“How is it?” he asked. Keith just stared down at the mush, eyes a little wide as he considered a moment then took a bigger bite. There was another pause before Keith leaned back his head with a low groan. 

“ _¡Ay que rico!_ ” Keith closed eyes and slowly chewed, cradling the food to his chest. Coran wasn’t sure if that meant it was good or he was dying and had been about to step in when Lance laughed. 

“Worth the price of admission.” 

Keith blinked his eyes open and fixed Lance with the warmest smile Coran had ever seen. “Thank you.” 

It caught Lance off guard and the boy faltered a moment, blushing, before he managed a laughing recovery. “Hey, you checked if they’re toxic.” He shrugged and hid his face by shoving it into one of the cones. Keith shook his head with a genuine laugh then caught Lance by the arm and pulled him toward the beach. 

Coran couldn’t help but recall something Allura had told him months ago about an intimate moment she’d seen between those two. At the time he’d thought nothing of it but now. Now he felt a little guilty for intruding so let the boys some time alone and went back to the main markets wondering how long this had been going on. 

####  6: Everyone, Mom

“What the hell were you thinking!” Lance snarled as he stalked through the hangar toward one of the Blade of Marmora ships parked in the castle. The other Paladins were right behind him, all coming to a stop in front of the short Blade that climbed out, face hidden behind the black mask. 

“I was doing my job, Lance.” Keith gave a cold answer and Lance threw his helmet at the boy for it. 

“When did it become your job to die?” 

Keith caught the helmet and stood there for a moment. With the mask up it was impossible to guess what he was thinking, feeling but he seemed to be looking over the group in front of him. Lance was closest, standing just a few yards away and practically panting in outrage. Shiro was next and almost seemed to be holding the others back the way Pidge and Hunk half hid behind him. Allura stood at his side with all the dignity and poise of the princess she surly was but also something hurt hidden in her eyes. Coran stood with her, arms folded behind his back while a knowing sympathy tugged at his moustache. Keith’s team, his family, watched in silence expecting him to say something. The other Blades slipped wordlessly away, abandoning him in favor of tending to more important matters. Importance was relative. The Paladins had prioritized Keith’s answers over others. He did owe them that much. 

“We’re soldiers. This is a war. It was the only way-” 

“Oh fuck that,” Lance cut him off dramatically flinging both hands toward the strange new ship the Blades and Rebels were gathering around at the other side of the hanger. “Obviously it wasn’t!” 

Keith bristled, “Not even Slav could have predicted that.” 

“So what?” Lance put his hands on his hips with a huff and glared. “That makes it OK for you to just throw yourself at a shield?” 

“I did it for you!” Keith took a step closer, face still hidden by the mask but they could all her a near desperate sort of pain in his voice. “If we didn’t destroy that cannon then all we’ve worked for- You deserve to go home.” 

“Yeah. And you don’t?” Lance bit back but faltered when Keith flinched and looked away for it. He might have been about to say something but it was hard to tell with the mask and Lance didn’t give him a chance. He took the last step to close the distance between them and jerked Keith into a tight hug. The mask dissolved when Lance pulled the hood back and Keith turned his face to hide tears against the other boy’s shoulder. It was another intimate moment that left the onlookers a bit awkward and hesitant to intrude. At least until Lance opened his mouth and said, “Mom will kill me if I come home without you.” 

Keith pulled back from the hug to blink at Lance, almost as surprised by the statement as everyone else. Almost. 

“Mom?” Pidge asked the easy question, distraction from heavier subjects no one wanted to address. “Why would Lance’s mom care if Keith comes home?” 

All eyes went to Lance but he just gave them a confused look for the question so Shiro turned to the other boy and prodded gently, “Keith?” 

The young Blade hesitated a moment, still staring at Lance, before he managed to pull his eyes away and look to the others. Guilt started to knot his brow as he took them in then he settled on Shiro. “Her name is Maria Reyes-McClain,” his voice was a bit airy as he answered. 

“Maria Reyes. . .” Shiro blinked, confusion etched his face as he tried to fit the puzzle then his eyes went a little wide when it clicked, “Oh.” 

“Oh? Oh what?” Hunk glanced between the three of them now. Shiro slowly shook his head then explained. 

“Mrs Reyes signed Keith’s admission papers to the Garrison.” 

“That’s weird,” Hunk didn’t get it. “Why would Lance’s mom-” 

“Dude,” Pidge gave him a little shove. “Keith’s adopted.” 

Hunk glanced down at her then looked back to the others with a shrug. “Ok, but what does that have to do with Lance’s mom?” 

“Wait,” Lance stared at Hunk, “You don’t know?” 

Hunk curled in on himself slightly and glanced between the others nervously. “I don’t know what’s going on.” 

Lance arched a brow at the big guy then huffed a little laugh. “Keith is my brother, man.” 

“Brother?” Allura spoke for Hunk and looked somewhat both confused and a little disturbed. Coran was right with her on that but he elaborated, perhaps a bit more than they would have liked. 

“If I’m not mistaken it is taboo to court close relatives even on Earth and well. . . It’s just that we had been under the impression for some time that the two of you were. . . how should I say. . . romantically involved.” 

“What?” Keith nearly squeaked with a slight blush and Lance recoiled even giving Keith a little push to put some space between them though he did blush a bit too. 

“Ew. No.” Lance shook the thought off. “My mom adopted Keith in like fifth grade. We shared a room through high school.” 

That didn’t seem to mean very much to the Alteans but Hunk frowned for the news. “You shared a room?” 

“Yeah, it was kind of a small house,” Lance shrugged the question off. 

Hunk glanced between them. “But that would mean Keith is Edgelord McBroodyface Emoton the Third.” 

“What?” Keith turned on Lance with a hot glare. 

“Aaahaha. . .” Lance edged away with a forced smile, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, big guy.” 

“You used to talk about him all the time,” Hunk returned Lance’s nervous laugh with one of his own then awkwardly rambled through the tension. “How you had to share a room with your annoying brother and how much you hated it because it cramped your style and you had to get rid of him to bring girls over cuz he-” 

“Shut. Up!” Lance covered Hunk’s mouth to get him to stop. Everyone stared at them then gave cautious looks to Keith. He didn’t seem to know quite how to respond to this though looked about two seconds from snapping. Shiro started to step in but Keith huffed a tight sound then folded his arms. 

“I am so telling Mom.” 

“What?” Lance swiveled his head so fast he might have got whiplash from it. “No.” 

“I’m telling Mom,” Keith repeated almost petulantly. “You called me names, talked about me behind my back, and brought girls home.” 

Lance blinked and took a moment to process this before huffing a weak laugh. “Oh come on, Keith.” 

“I could also tell her about Nyma,” Keith narrowed his eyes with the start of a coy little grin pulling at his lips. “And the mermaids. And every other even vaguely female life form we’ve encountered. Not to mention, you stole Coran’s face cream.” 

“Stole my what now?” Coran took a step toward them but Lance waved him off. 

“Nothing!” he turned to Keith, “And Mom doesn’t need to know about-” 

“Better start being nice to me then,” Keith cut him off. 

“I am nice to you!” Lance balked but Keith just lifted a brow. Lance frowned then folded his arms with a little huff. “Yeah well. . . I’m telling Mom about all the shit you’ve pulled.” 

“She won’t believe you.” Keith shrugged it off then leveled a challenging stare. “I’m the good one. Remember?” 

Lance’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he had to take a moment to blink his eyes back in his skull before managing a quick, “No. . . Nononono!” He stepped up to the challenge, waving a finger in Keith’s face. “You are not going to one up me with my own mother!” 

Keith kept his cool and just shrugged again. “History says otherwise.” 

“Why you little-” Lance’s voice cut off in frustrated rage. Keith had actually left him speechless. With no other recourse, Lance took a page from his brother’s playbook and swung at the boy. Keith hadn’t expected it so took the punch with his face but came back to grapple Lance into a headlock and dropped them both to scuffling on the floor. 

“Should we. . .?” Allura’s question trailed off, not really certain how to politely phrase the rest of that thought. 

Shiro shook his head with a disappointed frown. “Let’s just. . . let them figure that out.” He turned away with a sigh to watch a much bigger problem striding through the crowd of their allies at the far end of the hangar. “We have other things to worry about right now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 times the team didn’t, 1 they did notice that . . . Keith and Lance are adopted brothers.
> 
> Sooo. . . yeah. I hope I did this justice. I don’t have the softest relationship with my own brother though so some of the interactions might not be so much bonding as just what siblings do. I left out breaking bones and gunshot wounds but couldn’t help highlighting the rivalry and how siblings know exactly how to cut deep.
> 
> I don’t speak Spanish so if you do (especially if you’re Cuban) please correct my translations.
> 
> Part 1:  
>  _Él me tiene hasta el último pelo!_  
>  He has me to the last hair! (supposedly a Cuban saying)
> 
> Part 3:  
>  _Sabes que hablo español. No ha sido tan largo._  
>  You know I speak Spanish. It hasn't been that long.
> 
>  _Si, bueno, olvidaste todo lo demás, ¿por qué no el lenguaje?_  
>  Yeah well you forgot everything else so why not the language?
> 
>  _No lo olvide. Supusiste que no te reconocí y tenía prisa, así que no quería. . . lidiar con eso._  
>  I didn’t forget. You assumed I didn’t recognize you and I was in a hurry so didn’t want to. . . deal with it.
> 
>  _No quería lidiar con eso?_  
>  Didn’t want to deal with it?
> 
> Part 4:  
> Moonlight _en la playa. Tu madre cantando a los niños para dormir._  
>  Moonlight on the beach. Your mom singing the kids to sleep.
> 
>  _Arruru mi niño, arruru mi amor / Arruru pedazo de mi corazón / Este niño lindo que nació de noche_  
>  Arruru my baby, arruru my love / Arruru little piece of my heart / This pretty baby who was born at night  
> (Part of a Cuban lullaby. Arruru is like a Spanish Lalala.)
> 
> Part 5:  
>  _Cucurucho_ \- sweetened coconut mush wrapped into a palm leaf cone, delicacy of the city of Baracoa in eastern Cuba. It’s on the opposite end of the country from Varadero but I figure they could have traveled.
> 
>  _¡Ay que rico!_ \- Oh delicious! (supposedly a common Cuban exclamation)


	5. NotMyShiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“How do we prove it though?” Keith frowned at Lance as if he might have the answer._
> 
> _“Ask questions only the real Shiro would know?”_
> 
> _“Yeah. That’s not obvious.”_
> 
> _“Just gotta be smooth about it.” Lance swiped a hand in a smooth arc._
> 
> _“Great idea.” Keith deadpanned with a flat look. “Just I’m the only one with any secrets like that and we’ve already established I am about as smooth as a chainsaw.”  
> _  
>  Request from StormBerryMC for some fluffy angst with protective Keith defending/comforting Lance from a verbally abusive Shiro which makes them realise that’s No Shiro. And then it got away from me so have over 8k words that don’t even finish the story. There will be a part 2. Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd and totally rushed to meet the deadline. Technically it is still Friday where I am. I've got 15 minutes!
> 
> I'll clean it up when I post the second part. Feel free to point out any grievous errors in the comments. Or offer to be my beta reader. I needs one so bad. @.@

Keith had been so relieved, so happy to see Shiro again he didn’t even question the near impossible circumstances of the rescue. They found the needle in the infinite haystack and plucked him from the endless void of slow death with seconds on the clock. Yes, it took a while to pull off and in the end it wasn’t really even him that found Shiro. It was the Black Lion. But Keith was OK with that. He’d have been OK with pretty much anything so long as it meant getting Shiro back. Keith was so beyond ready to hand over the mantle of leadership that he didn’t even care what kind of shuffling would be required to put Shiro behind Black’s controls where he belonged. Keith didn’t even think about it, really. Not at first. Not until Lance came to talk to him and pointed out the six Paladins for five Lions math problem. That had been a blow. 

He put on a good face for Lance, talked strong and confident like he needed to as a leader. Keith had learned a few things. But he’d hardly slept that night trying to figure out what they should do about it. Of course Shiro would take Black but Keith didn’t want to push Lance out of Red unless he could have Blue back and Allura really was doing well though maybe she wouldn’t mind giving up Blue but she was doing so well maybe they could shuffle one of the others? By the time he passed out, Keith had convinced himself that Pidge could just make Allura her own Lion (once they tracked down that interdimensional comet Lotor ran off with) and then they’d have an even better chance of beating Zarkon. The biggest problem his sleep deprived mind could see with this plan was what color to make it. He refused to acknowledge pink as an option.

Not once had Keith even considered the possibility that the Black Lion would not take Shiro back. It was so far outside his realm of understanding that he wasn’t entirely convinced he was actually awake when Shiro told him he would have to go out instead. Keith was pretty convinced it was a particularly realistic nightmare right up until he saw what had become of the comet. If this were a nightmare it would have been a fucking pink Lion. Because Keith’s subconscious has a twisted sense of humor. 

To make matters worse, the ship that was the comet they might have built a Lion from got away. Of course it got away. It was always going to. No matter what he did. Keith just couldn’t get a break. He was so fucking. . .

“Useless,” Shiro’s voice finished that thought and Keith jerked at the sound, pulled out of his thoughts to stare at the empty hallway around him. Ok that’s new. Not the voice, Keith had been hearing Shiro’s voice in his head for years but it was supposed to be the voice of reason, giving good advice and cheesy motivational phrases to keep him centered. Keith had plenty of other voices in his head to put him down. He didn’t need Shiro joining in on that.

“You’re not even holding it right. Here,” Shiro’s voice continued to make less sense the more it said. “Ok. Try again.”

Keith was starting to question his sanity when he heard the clash of. . . well, whatever their bayards were made of against metal. It was a familiar sound. He’d heard it a thousand times. Even the scrape and thud that followed was somewhat recognizable as someone getting thrown to the ground. It was the little “Oomph” that gave it away and made Keith realize the sounds weren’t in his head. They were coming from the training room he found himself standing just outside of. Keith didn’t really remember heading toward the training deck but he was so tired he’d been on autopilot most of the day so wasn’t all that surprised by it. He was surprised by what he heard though.

“Hopeless. That wasn’t even two seconds,” Shiro derided and Keith frowned at the bitterness in his tone. That was a sound reserved for enemies like Sendak or Keith’s last foster parents. “I could have killed you three times before you hit the ground.”

“I’m trying, Shiro. I’m just,” Lance’s voice paused to gasp a few quick breaths. They must have been training together. From the sound of it things weren’t going well. “This is hard.”

“Keith could have blocked that when he was twelve,” Shiro’s voice sneered and Keith was caught between a reflexive sense of pride he felt whenever Shiro said something good about him and feeling kind of bad for Lance that he was being compared to twelve year old Keith. Lance didn’t have the context to know that Keith was already a brown belt by then. 

“I know. You keep saying,” there was a bite in Lance’s voice that Keith hadn’t heard pointed at Shiro before.

“And you keep dropping your sword,” Shiro bit back. “Honestly, Lance. You should have at least learned that much by now. I’ve never had a student take so long to grasp the most basic concepts. That bruise should be enough to remind you to guard your center but you keep finding new ways to leave yourself open every time. It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long with all the fighting we do. But then I guess you’ve had everyone else to protect you.”

“Well. Yeah. We’re a team, right?” Lance’s voice was thin and tight. “You’ve got my back. I’ve got yours.”

“How can you have anyone’s back if you can’t even guard your own center, Lance?” Shiro’s voice cut, sharp and cold. “If you just spent half the time training as you do lazing about then maybe you wouldn’t need protecting.”

“Wh-what?” Keith could hear the warbling doubt in Lance’s voice. “Shiro I am training.”

“You call this training? This is getting your ass kicked. You have to actually learn something for it to count as training. Or do you enjoy being a burden to the rest of us? Is it fun being completely useless?” Shiro crossed the line between tough motivation and verbal abuse. Something Keith never thought he would see. . . er, well, hear. Lance didn’t have a comeback for that and Keith decided it was past time to step in.

“This isn’t a game, McClain,” Shiro growled like a drill sergeant as Keith walked through the door. Shiro’s back was turned but Keith could see the way he towered over Lance who seemed to have shrunk several inches in shame or fear or both. Neither of them noticed him come in but Keith noticed the glisten of tears on Lance’s lashes. 

“Shiro,” Keith snapped in a voice he hardly even recognized. It sounded more like Shiro’s Dad voice than his own. He had to pause a moment to collect himself from that before going on. It also gave the man time to turn and face him. There was a cold steel in Shiro’s eyes Keith had only seen a few times and never directed at him. It nearly made him flinch but a glance to the tear that dripped down Lance’s cheek put fire in his gut and Keith stood tall, pulled out his new found Dad voice and demanded, “What are you doing?”

“Telling the truth,” Shiro’s voice was calm and he relaxed his stance as he spoke, taking a step toward Keith. At least it put him farther from Lance. “This is a war. We can not afford to coddle them.”

There was logic in the statement. Keith had thought the same thing himself more than once but always got outvoted when the others complained of draconian training regimens. He kind of hated Pidge for teaching Lance that word. Draconian. Keith was pretty sure he didn’t realise it was referring to a Greek legislator and not a fucking dragon. Focus Keith. What would Shiro say? . . . to Shiro? Keith shook his head with a frustrated grunt and finally came up with, “We shouldn’t break them either.”

Shiro just arched a brow and gave him a look that said ‘I know you agree with me’ while Lance balked.

“W-wait. You didn’t deny it being true!” Lance’s voice cracked but he stood up straighter and fixed Keith with a watery gaze. “You don’t. . . agree with him. Do you, Keith?”

This was quite possibly the worst thing Lance could have done. Keith was still reeling from the jab that he’d fucked up by not denying Shiro’s slander and those teary eyes were doing things to him that he really did not want to think about but kept getting distracted by so Keith was completely unprepared for the question and did the worst thing he could have in return. Blinked like a dumb fool and said nothing.

“You do,” Lance breathed, covering his mouth with a hand as another tear started to roll down his cheek.

“No!” Keith yelped in panic and lost control of his mouth. “You’re not completely useless.”

“Not completely?” Lance nearly squeaked but at least there was more offense than hurt to it this time. Keith could work with offense. It was better than crying any day.

“Oh come on, Lance.” Keith tried for nonchalance but knew it was probably closer to haughty. “We all know you’re not a close combat fighter. Even the red bayard knows that.”

Lance’s eyes went wide and his pupils nearly disappeared as his nostrils flared. Anger. Keith knew how to deal with anger. Still it hurt a little when Lance yelled back, “You think I’m useless!”

“I didn’t say tha-” Keith tried to defend but Lance cut him off.

“Yes you did! You think you’re better than me! Don’t deny it. You always have.” At least this was familiar ground. Once riled up Keith could use Lance’s stupid rivalry to get him to agree to just about anything by simply taking the other side. Pidge calls it reverse psychology. Keith calls it effective. If only Shiro kept his mouth shut. But of course not.

“He is,” Shiro said it like an indisputable fact. Both boys swiveled owlishly to stare at him so the man clarified. “Keith is better than you. At everything.” Keith was torn between pride and blind rage so couldn’t form an argument before Lance huffed a tight laugh.

“Seriously!? Even that mullet?” Lance tried to deflect the pain with humor but Shiro just shrugged carelessly.

“Everything that matters.”

“What the hell, Shiro?” Keith recovered enough to speak but didn’t manage the Dad voice again. “You can’t just say that.”

“And you can’t just agree with it!” Lance blindsided him with a teary screech then pushed his way out the door, choking back sobs Keith wasn’t sure he didn’t cause. Shock, confusion and guilt warred for Keith’s attention so he gave it all to anger and turned on Shiro with a snarl.

“What the fuck?”

Shiro didn’t even blink. Just smoothly provided his answer, “He is not cut out for this.”

That pissed Keith off even more so he snapped like a child. “Yeah well, you don’t seem to care when it comes to me!” 

“You are better than him.” Shiro said it like a truth but this time Keith didn’t feel the pride.

“No. I’m not,” Keith shook his head with a deep frown, crossing his arms over his chest to ground himself before he fell over from the surreality of. . . all this. “Lance would have been able to keep me from running out.”

Shiro just shrugged again. “You wouldn’t have run.”

“I storm out of almost every serious conversation I’ve ever had!” Keith threw his hands up in frustration. “Like this one. Right now. Because I don’t have time for this shit!” He ended with a growl and didn’t even look back as he turned on a heel then stormed out as promised. If Shiro tried to stop him he didn’t try very hard.

\--

Usually Keith went to the training room to take his frustrations out on the gladiator bots when he stormed out of a conversation so he wasn’t quite sure where to go now. Before everything went to shit he might have taken Red out for a spin but he didn’t have that kind of relationship with Black. Piloting her just stressed him out. He might have talked to Shiro, that usually helped, but this was about Shiro. He was being too hard on Lance. Keith understood. Lance was. . . difficult and Shiro had been. . . tense since they got him back. He wouldn’t talk about what happened. Pidge whispered PTSD so they gave him leeway but this was too much.

It was all too much. 

Keith wasn’t cut out for this. Leading. He didn’t know what to do. So he found himself stalking down the halls with nowhere to go when he caught sight of Lance staring out one of the big windows into space. He’d stopped crying but the broken expression on his face was just as heartbreaking. Keith never thought he would miss the darring glint to those blue eyes or that stupid grin Lance used to wear. It had been too long since he’d smiled. Keith just wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Of course he had no idea how to get there. He didn’t even know what to say to comfort his best friend. Wait. When did Lance become Keith’s best friend?

“Come to rub it in some more?” Lance must have sensed him somehow. Keith blinked and took a few moments to register the words, distracted as Lance crossed his arms over his chest and tensed his shoulders but didn’t turn around, just watched Keith’s reflection in the glass. “Well?”

“Wha- No!” Keith finally caught up.

“You agreed with him!” Lance flailed his arms, turning to glare at Keith who put up his hands defensively.

“I did not.”

“The bayard,” Lance swiveled his head in a sassy way that Keith was pretty sure would break his neck if he tried it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he settled for shaking his head with a sigh. “It’s just you’re a lot better with guns than swords.”

“Better,” Lance folded his arms again with an indignant pout then looked away to mutter, “but still not good.”

“Lance,” Keith took a few steps closer with a hand held out slightly, almost reaching but falling short. “You’re our sharpshooter. No one can shoot like you. And we’d all be dead if you didn’t have our backs.”

There was a brief hesitation. Lance almost looked at Keith but turned away instead. “I’m useless close quarters.”

“That’s what I’m there for. To keep them off you.” Keith took the last few steps, closed the distance between them and leaned slightly around, trying to catch the other boy’s eye. Lance frowned but gave in and let him. “We can’t be good at everything,” Keith offered a soft smile. “You know I’m pretty shit at the talking. Right?”

Lance huffed a weak laugh. “Yeah. Obviously.” 

“See. Not perfect.” Keith waved a hand at himself as he stepped around Lance to stand in front of him though it put them very close with the limited space to the window. Lance quirked a tiny grin as he nearly purred.

“Oh, I never said you were. Not with that mullet.” He even reached up to lightly flick the offending hair.

Keith rolled his eyes but this was good. This was Lance. “You gonna be ok?”

There was a brief hesitation but Lance nodded. “Yeah.” Then he pursed his lips with a daring glint to his eye. “You still think you’re a better pilot?”

Keith blinked, hesitated, then took a chance and quirked a wry little smile as he rolled a wide shrug. “Well. . . I mean. . . It’s kinda my thing.”

“I thought you were the hot-head loner,” Lance challenged with a huff but he was still smiling.

“Pilot. Hot-head pilot,” Keith corrected then tilted his head. “And fighter. I guess.” He paused to swallow a sudden lump when Lance’s smile started to face. “You’ve got all the cool.” He threw out a Hail Mary compliment. Lance blinked and for some reason that made Keith feel a little light headed.

“You think I’m cool?” Lance asked after a breathless moment. Keith struggled to form words for a tick then just vomited what he had to break the silence.

“Chill. As in smooth. You can talk to people. And make sense of things. And actually communicate what you mean which is something I am currently failing to do.” Smoothe Kogane. So smoothe. He had to look away and fold his arms over his chest to keep himself from doing whatever all that hand movement had been as he talked. Keith must have been more tired than he thought.

“Oh wow, Mullet.” Lance was really smiling now and just the sound of it made Keith look back. He was not prepared for the. . . softness he saw mixed in with the usual bravado. “That was almost cute.”

“Cute?” Keith’s voice broke like a fucking teenager (nevermind his actual age) and he just hoped Lance didn’t notice.

“Awww. Now you’re blushing.” Oh, that’s even worse. Quick, deny it!

“I am not.”

“Yes you are,” Lance practically sang, leaning in close - way too close. Keith sucked a deep breath and tensed all over for the proximity but at least Lance was happy now. That was worth a little embarrassment. Right? Sure.

“Whatever.” Keith pushed past Lance, stepping away to get some space so he could breathe. He didn’t go far though and turned back to give the other boy a serious look. “We good?”

“Yeah,” Lance softened the tease out of his grin as he nodded. “We’re good.”

Keith nodded then lost control of his mouth again. “I’m gonna go die of shame now.”

“Have fun with that.” Lance choked back a laugh but Keith didn’t get far before Lance called after him. “Hey. Keith?”

“Yeah?” Keith turned back to watch Lance catch up with a worried frown.

“Is Shiro. . .” Lance hesitated a moment to glance around the hall and rub his hands together anxiously before huffing out. “I don’t know. Has he been acting. . . kinda strange to you?”

Keith blinked for the question and did pause to consider but shrugged it off quickly. He really did not want to accept the possibility that Shiro might not be OK so made excuses, “He’s under a lot of stress.”

“Yeah. . .” Lance frowned. “It’s hard getting rejected by your lion.”

Keith twitched. He’d not even considered that. More importantly though, “Blue didn’t reject you, Lance. Red needed you.”

“I know. I know,” Lange sighed. “But it still hurt. And Shiro doesn’t even have a Lion now. He did get rejected.”

“He didn’t get rejected. He gave up.” Keith couldn’t keep all the bitterness out of his voice for that. Lance stared, surprised.

“Keith. I know you’re not good at the talking but, really?”

“He only tried once,” Keith huffed. “I had to get blown out an airlock into space for Red to accept me.”

Lance started to argue then blinked. “Wait. What?”

“Not important,” Keith didn’t feel like explaining that. “The point is Shiro hasn’t really tried.”

“Wow. You really are oblivious.” Lance half muttered and Keith gave him a slight glare for it but Lance put up his hands. “Shiro’s been in Black’s hangar almost every night since he got rejected. She won’t even let him touch her. Puts up a particle barrier whenever you’re not there.”

“What?” Keith didn’t know that. “How do you know?”

Lance just shrugged, “Pidge set up cameras all over the ship. She gets an alert whenever there’s movement in the hangars.”

“Huh. . .” Keith was not sure how to take that invasion of privacy.

“Yeah. I’ve pretty much given up on the concept of privacy around here,” Lance sometimes spoke to Keith’s thoughts and it was a little creepy but did make talking to him a lot easier. “So long as they get my good side,” Lance added with a purr and struck some stupid pose. Of course that would be Lance’s concern with this.

“Is that why you’ve been walking backwards in the north hallway?”

“Only when I’m going to the lounge.”

Keith just stared. It was a very Lance thing to do. Change the way he walked to keep his ‘good side’ toward a camera. As if Lance had a bad side. . . Focus. “Ok. That’s a thing. I’m gonna go talk to Pidge about civil rights violations now.” 

\--

Trying to decide which side was Lance’s bad one kept Keith distracted from heavier subjects he really did not want to think about as he walked into Green’s hangar to find Pidge tinkering with something. She was completely absorbed, glancing between her three screens and poking the sleek little black box with a messy jumble of wires and tools Keith knew better than trying to understand. Pidge’s projects were magic to him and there was absolutely no point in even attempting to. . . hey. 

“That’s Galra tech,” Keith didn’t really mean to say it out loud but apparently he was too tired to keep control of his mouth today.

“Figured that much out already,” Pidge grumbled without even looking up. She did at least add a little, “Thanks.”

Keith hesitated a moment, leaning over to get a better look before asking, “Where did you get it?”

“Shiro.” She still didn’t look up.

“Shiro gave you this?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Pidge huffed a frustrated sound for all the questions and finally looked up. “It’s some sort of fancy ultra-secure datapad he got from some Rebels. Said it might have information on my family. If only I could get into it.” She kicked the thing lightly and Keith flinched but she just went on. “Damn thing is tighter than a klaznark. . . whatever that is.” She paused to actually look at the boy in front of her, took in the tension in his shoulders and way his eyes were fixed on the box like it might bite him. That caught her attention. She glanced between it and Keith then asked her own question, “Why?”

Keith shook himself to focus and just stared at Pidge a moment, not really sure what to say. What he was thinking made no damn sense. Shiro would never do that. So Keith doubted himself. He shook his head and brushed it off. “Nothing.”

Of course Pidge was not satisfied with that. “Keith?”

He hesitated. It was stupid. He must be wrong. But Pidge wasn’t going to stop until he told her so he explained. “I just saw Kolivan use something like that once. But it wasn’t a datapad.”

“What was it?”

Keith considered not saying but. . . “A bomb.”

Pidge twitched then turned wide eyes on the thing. “Oh. . . uuh. . .” She brushed the boot mark off it’s case. “I should probably be more careful with it.”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded with a frown then Pidge asked the obvious question.

“Why would Shiro give me a bomb and call it a datapad?”

“I must be wrong.” Keith gave the obvious answer, “They probably just look alike.” 

Pidge considered this a moment, leaning in to type at her screens a moment with a little nod. “Yeah. . . but a smart bomb would explain some of this code. And the odd structures. I thought it was some sort of advanced crystalline data storage system but. . . well. This is Galra not Krypton so. . .”

“Shiro probably doesn’t know.” Keith was quick with the excuses.

“Yeah. . . If it is a bomb.” Pidge paused to type then shook her head. “He could have got it off a Galra sympathiser just pretending to be a Rebel. Figured we wouldn’t know the difference.” She looked up with a coy grin, “They must not know we’ve got a Galra on the team.” Keith forced a weak smile for that and Pidge huffed a laugh. “Good catch. But now I’ve got some really important work to do making sure this thing does not blow up. Soooo. . .” she flicked a hand to shoo him out.

“Yeah,” Keith muttered and backed away but she called as he turned.

“Hey, Keith. Can you get Hunk for me? I need his help with this.”

“Sure,” He nodded then huffed a sigh and just tossed out there. Casual like. “Oh, yeah. Could you not put cameras around the ship without talking to everyone first?”

The light of Pidge’s screen glinted on her glasses when she looked up to shrug. “That kind of defeats the purpose.”

Keith just stared. He did so not want to deal with this. “I am going to wilfully ignore the implications of that statement and continue thinking of you as an innocent little sister. Ok?”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night.” She huffed a little laugh then added with a gentler smile, “Middle Bro.”

\--

That smile and being called a brother by someone he knew for a fact would literally go to the ends of the universe for her brother kept Keith going all the way to the kitchen. You’ve gotta focus on the little things when everything else is failing you. Or you’re failing it. . . Focus Keith. He shook himself out of his thoughts just in time to see Shiro disappear around the corner at the end of the hall. He had a steaming mug in one hand and open datapad in the other, reading as he walked. Keith couldn’t help a soft smile at the sight. The memory of how Shiro used to walk while reading all the time when they were younger. It was a bad habit that made him run into a few walls and one time a flagpole but Keith had always liked Shiro’s nerdy side. Proof hidden under all that muscle he really was a dork. If only it were a paperback sci-fi novel instead of what was almost certainly reports from allies requesting more aid. Still, Keith didn’t want to disrupt the moment so he left Shiro to his reading and stepped into the kitchen to look for Hunk.

The smell of something sweet lingered in the air and Lance lounged against the counter nursing a steaming mug as Hunk put away whatever ingredients he’d most recently transformed into something no doubt spectacular. 

“Hey, Big Guy.” Keith announced his presence to get their attention then fulfilled his purpose. “The gremlin’s asking for you.”

“Hey! That’s my thing.” Lance set his mug down with the complaint then hopped off the counter. “Since when do you call Pidge that?”

“Since she earned it.” Keith deadpanned and got arched brows from both of them for that.

“Should I make you some hot chocolate too?” Hunk asked gently.

“Uuh. . .” Keith glanced between them and the scattered ingredients on the counter then shook his head. “No thanks.”

“Oh come on, Mullet. Live a little.” Lance scooped up his mug again and took an exaggerated sip, smacking his lips to emphasise its goodness.

Keith was not to be swayed. “That stuff is bad for you.”

“But it’s sooo good for the soul.” Lance practically crooned, leaning back against the counter as he did. Keith just stared with a flat expression that probably looked grumpier than intended due to all the sleep deprivation.

“It’s Ok, Lance.” Hunk came to the rescue. Bless him. “You can’t force hot chocolate. That ruins the magic.”

The what? Keith blinked and was just tired enough to ask. “Magic?”

Hunk nearly flinched for the question, obviously not expecting it. Then he huffed a weak laugh and rambled. “Yeah, well. Not actually magic. Not like . . . yeah. But my moms always used to make us a cup whenever I got in fight with my sister. It’s like a warm, sugary salve. You just can’t stay mad with hot chocolate in your belly.”

“Huh. . .” Keith drug a skeptical look over the ingredients on the counter then blinked at the milk. That was real milk. Cow milk. From that stupid cow Lance had inexplicably picked up in the Space Mall. Hot chocolate made with real milk. Keith’s sluggish brain seemed be going somewhere with this but it took him a moment to put it together. Oh. He glanced to the door then asked with a bit of urgency. “Did you give some of that to Shiro?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s the whole point.” Lance answered for Hunk who just frowned at the question. “We had hot chocolate and made up.”

Keith didn’t bother to hide his cringe then asked just to make sure, “Was there milk in it?”

The question threw Lance off so it was up to Hunk to answer with a shrinking, “Yeah?”

“Oh no,” Keith breathed then leapt for the door. Shiro didn’t have his helmet on so Keith couldn’t just call him and this wasn’t the kind of thing to put on the intercom. He’d have to catch up and warn him.

“Hey! What the cheese?” Lance called after, jumping for the door to follow Keith who explained once they were in the hall, away from Hunk, who would only blame himself.

“Shiro’s lactose intolerant.”

Lance’s eyes went wide. “Oh crap.”

“Exactly.”

\--

The run to Shiro’s room was fast and adrenaline kept Keith’s mind off everything that wasn’t the immediate threat. It was good. The sharp focus of danger. Options narrowed to fight or flight and everything was so simple. It’s the time between that Keith had to worry about. Standing still let him doubt. Apparently it made Lance doubt too.

“Are you sure he’s really lactose intolerant?” Lance asked once they’d established Shiro was not in his room and now they didn’t know where to look.

“Yeah.” Keith pushed open Shiro’s closet compartment thing just to make sure he wasn’t hiding in there for no reason at all.

“Ok but. . .” Lance leaned against the wall next to him. “How sure?”

Keith gave him a flat look. “Very.”

“But how do you know?”

Keith held back a growl but his voice was still sharp when he answered, “Because the last time Shiro and I snuck out of the Garrison together we shared a plate of curry but instead of coconut milk they used sour cream so Shiro defiled my bike on the way back.”

“Defiled your bike?”

“Use your imagination.”

“Ew. . .” Lance physically recoiled from the thought then froze. “Wait is that the same bike we-”

“I had to change the seat.”

“Double gross.” Lance frowned then watched Keith as he checked under the bed like they were looking for a lost hamster and not a full grown man. “Wait,” Lance straightened up at a new thought. “You and Shiro snuck out of the Garrison together? On that bike?”

“Focus, Lance.” Keith snapped. He did so not have time to get into that. Especially not with Lance. “We have to find Shiro.”

“Well. By now it’s already too late. He’s probably finished the cup.”

“Yeah I know. But we can at least warn him so he doesn’t defile the ship.”

“Ah man. I did not need that mental image.”

“Image. . . Pidge,” Keith ran to the door and punched the communicator pad to make a call into Green’s hangar. “I need you to find Shiro for me.”

“I am not your personal assistant.” Pidge replied tersely as Lance leaned into the com at Keith’s side then tried a gentler tactic with a smooth voice to charm her.

“It’s important, Pidgey.” 

“Uugh. Fine.” They heard typing and Keith gave Lance an appreciative smile for his skills of persuasion though it was probably more annoyance than anything that really got the job done. “He’s on the training deck.”

“Does he look ok?” Keith tried to smooth his voice a little but wasn’t very good at it.

“Well. He’s keeping up with three training bots so, yeah.”

“We might make it.” Keith stepped away with a quick, “Thanks, Pidge.”

“Make what?”

Lance started to answer but Keith jerked him away from the panel and drug him down the hall before he managed. They were in too much a hurry to explain. Also. “This is going to be embarrassing enough for Shiro. He doesn’t need us telling everyone else about it.”

Thankfully Lance didn’t fight him on that though he did point out, “You do realise she is going to be watching.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

\-- 

The observation deck of the training room was on the way and Lance suggested they could use the com in there to call him since that would be faster than going all the way down. Thankfully Shiro was still fighting robots like it was nothing when they got there. Keith felt a wave of relief and reached for the com button only to have Lance catch his hand.

“Are you really sure Shiro is lactose intolerant?”

Keith shot him a glare and jerked back his hand. “How many times do I have to say it? Yes. Very”

“He looks fine.” Lance waved at the training room below.

“For about another two minutes.”

“Look. Keith.” Lance gave him a serious look. That always took the bottom right out of Keith’s stomach. “I know you’ve got a huge blind spot when it comes to Shiro but. . . I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him drink milkshakes.”

“What? No.”

“Yeah. I gave him one just after he got back and at least a few more since. Hunk made that hot chocolate right in front of him. I mean he’s been kinda off lately but he’d have to be asleep not to notice the milk.”

Keith wasn’t sure where Lance was going with this but he could still make excuses. “Shiro’s been under a lot of stress. He was probably just not paying attention.”

“You’ve been gone a lot with your Blade Buddies, so you’re not seeing it but. . . I’m worried about him, Keith.”

“Then get out of the way and let me warn him.”

“Not about that and you know it. You just don’t want to face it.”

“Face what? He’s stressed. It is very stressful being in charge. I would know.”

“He’s not in charge, Keith. You are.”

Keith flinched for that then huffed petulantly. “Yeah, well. I don’t want to be.”

 

Lance gave him a flat stare for that. “Just look me in the eye and tell me everything is Ok with Shiro.”

Keith grit his jaw and almost did. Out of pure spite, he almost recited the words but. . . But he didn’t. “What are you trying to get at Lance?”

“You can’t say it, can you? As much as you don’t want to see it, you still feel it. You’re all about instinct after all and your instinct is telling you something’s wrong.”

“Alright. Fine.” Keith threw his hands up, stepping away from the com panel. “Something is wrong. But I don’t know what to do about it. Shiro won’t talk to me anymore. I’ve never been good at the talking anyway. I’ve always just. . . done things. We never needed words. Now it’s like all I do is fuck up and he just keeps pushing. We don’t agree on anything anymore and I keep deferring to his judgement but I take too long or don’t do it right so it all goes to shit. And he just. Keeps. Pushing. He doesn’t listen when I tell him I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. And he won’t even let me do it! He keeps giving orders from the sideline and then putting it off on me to make the hard decisions. That’s fucking bullshit. Something I thought Shiro would never do. He’s better than that. But he’s doing it. He’s doing that and he’s being a dick to you and hasn’t used his Dad voice in. . . It’s like he’s not even the same person anymore.”

Lance gaped a bit for that onslaught of talking. Keith probably hadn’t said that much at once in front of Lance, let alone to Lance, the whole time they’d known each other. And it was some heavy shit too. Lance deserved a moment to collect himself. Though he could have come up with better than, “War can change people, Keith. None of us are the same-”

“No. Lance.” Keith cut him off. “I mean really. It’s like he’s not Shiro anymore.”

“Oh. . . Kay. That’s maybe going a little far.”

“Is it though, Lance? I mean. Look at him.” Keith waved to Shiro casually wiping sweat of his face after putting the bots down. “He should be defiling that floor right now.”

“Well. . . maybe Kaltenecker’s not a real cow?” Lance shrugged. “Maybe Space Cow milk doesn’t have lactose.”

“Really?” Keith gave him a flat look.

“Is that any more crazy than your Shiro’s Not Shiro theory?”

“If it was just the milk. But it’s not. You’re the one who started this. He made you cry earlier.”

“Uh. No. He almost made me cry. And then you did make me cry.”

Keith hid a cringe for the accusation but argued, “You were already crying Lance.”

“It’s not crying till there’s sobs.”

“Whatever. The point is Shiro would never say that stuff. And he wouldn’t give Pidge a bomb saying it was a datapad either.”

“Shiro did what now?” 

“Yeah.” That was pretty fucked up. But it wasn’t the only questionable thing Shiro had done lately. “He also kept us from getting that new ship of Lotor’s. He insisted it was one or the other between the ship and that teledove when I could have done both if he’d just shut up for like five seconds. I’m pretty sure I could have jacked that ship when we first saw it. I’ve stolen plenty of vehicles. And he knows it.”

“Why do I get the feeling that ‘stolen plenty of vehicles’ isn’t talking about Galra ships?” 

“Focus, Lance.” Keith paused for attention then got to the point. “We all just agree and do what he tells us to because he’s Shiro. But what if he isn’t?”

Lance jerked at the question then just stared a moment before shaking his head. “We’d be able to tell if it wasn’t Shiro.”

“Would we though? You said it yourself. I’ve got a huge blind spot for Shiro and even though you noticed he was acting strange you’re just worried he’s overwhelmed or whatever. We all just implicitly trust him without question because he’s Shiro. But we don’t have any proof of that, not even a scan. He was half dead when we found him but no one questioned that he didn’t want to go in the healing pod cuz PTSD stuff. We just let him sleep it off in his room. Hunk made soup. No one even considered it might not really be Shiro.”

“Because Black found him. Duh.” Lance tried to laugh it off.

“The Black Lion that was Zarkon’s Lion? The same one that by our best guess teleported Shiro to fuck knows where in the middle of a fight with Zarkon? That lion?”

“Dude. . . She’s your lion now. Cheese. You have really got to work on that relationship.” 

“I didn’t choose Black!” Keith hissed, too tired and on the edge of a paranoid breakdown to control his anger. “I don’t fit her. And why the fuck hasn’t she accepted Shiro? Huh? Because she knows it’s not Shiro. She won’t even let him touch her. Not after that first time he tried. She must have realized it then.”

“Whoa.” Lance held up his hands trying to calm Keith like a wild animal. “Come on, man. Slow down.” 

“No, Lance. I’m serious. Listen. Why won’t she take him back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she likes Galra.” Lance shrugged and got a hot glare for it. “What? You asked me. Why don’t you ask her?”

“She doesn’t answer. She never answers me. Black is. . . I don’t know. I’ve not been able to bond with her. Not like with Red.”

Lance frowned and an awkward silence fell between them till he broke it with a mutter. “She misses you. Red does.” 

Keith blinked and gave Lance a sorry look. “I miss her.” 

“I miss Blue.” Lance looked away with a frown.

Keith narrowed his eyes at the pain on his friend’s face then clenched his fists. “It isn’t Shiro. He wouldn’t do this.”

“It looks just like Shiro. Scar and everything. How could they-”

“Druid magic. Shapeshifting alien. Cybernetic replicant.” Keith counted off the possibilities.

Lance cringed a little for each one then added, “Evil Clone.”

“I’m pretty sure they haven’t had time to grow a clone.” Keith tried to reassure him at least on that but Lance wasn’t having it.

“You don’t know that!” 

Keith arch a brow then shook his head with a sigh. “How do we prove it though?”

“Ask questions only the real Shiro would know?”

“Yeah. That’s not obvious.”

“Just gotta be smooth about it.” Lance swiped a hand in a smooth arc between them then struck a pose.

“Great idea.” Keith deadpanned with a flat look. “Just I’m the only one with any secrets like that and we’ve already established I am about as smooth as a chainsaw.”

“That’s. . . an interesting metaphor but I get your point.”

Keith rolled his eyes then looked out the window, down at the empty training room. “He’s gone.” 

Lance leaned closer to the glass then looked back. “Maybe the lactose kicked in?”

Keith glared at him for it then shook his head with a sigh. “I’m gonna check the bathroom. You go get Pidge to search the rest of the ship.”

“Yeah. Cuz she totally doesn’t have cameras in there too.” Lance laughed but it trailed off uncomfortably at the end and they traded an uncertain stare.

\--

Keith tried not to think about any of the many unsettling things he’d encountered recently as he searched the bathrooms then locker room and shower near the training deck for Shiro. Instead he tried to guess just how many people this castle was built to hold. They wouldn’t need locker rooms just for five Paladins not even with a royal family in tow. And the place was huge. Keith had never really thought about it before but they could station an army in this thing. Why didn’t they? Maybe he should bring it up at their next strategy meeting. Right after outing the imposter pretending to be his brother. Allura’s going to love that.

“Shiro’s not in any of the bathrooms,” Keith informed Green’s hangar as he walked in.

“I could have told you that.” Pidge huffed from her screens.

Keith gave the girl a flat look but refrained from growling and just asked, “Do you have him then?”

“He’s in the shower. You missed him by like 30 seconds. It was kind of amusing to watch.”

Keith stared a moment glancing between Pidge sitting behind her array of tech and Lance perched on Green’s paw behind her. Lance gave him a little shrug as if to apologize for her. But there was just so much wrong right now Keith didn’t know where to start. He settled on asking, “You were watching?”

“I’m always watching. Listening too.” She patted the headphones around her neck.

“So you heard.” Keith didn’t really ask. At least that meant she wouldn’t need an explanation.

“Yeah. Interesting theory. Hard to prove without tipping him off to the suspicion. If Matt were here we could nail him easy but. . . yeah. Shiro’s been keeping me busy trying to decode a fucking bomb instead of actually finding the one person with the knowledge and acting skills to catch him in his stupid lies.” 

Keith arched a brow for that. “So you believe me?”

“It’s a compelling case,” Pidge shrugged. “But all the evidence is circumstantial. We need proof before we go any further with this.”

Keith frowned for that then looked around them. “I thought Hunk was helping you.”

“I sent him out when stuff got heavy.” Pidge explained then Lance added.

“Don’t want to scare the Big Guy. You know. Not till. . . well. We’re sure.”

“That.” Pidge nodded. “And he really can’t keep a secret.”

Lance just shrugged in agreement.

“So.” Keith glanced between them. “How do we prove it?”

“Short of getting him into a healing pod?” Pidge adjusted her glasses as she considered then shrugged. “Catch him in a lie and hope he doesn’t notice. Take a blood sample and hope he doesn’t question it. Check his scars and hope they did a sloppy job matching them.”

“Scars.” Keith grapsed at that. “He’s in the shower now.”

“That he is,” Pidge purred with a wry grin then typed into her computer to bring up a video feed.

“Holy crow, Pidge!” Lance gaped but she was not phased.

“Never know when you’ll need a camera. Like right now.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Keith grumbled. “Can you zoom in?”

“Of course.” She clicked a few keys then made the image of Shiro’s naked back side even larger. Lance looked everywhere but the screen as he started to fidget then asked a good question.

“Do either of you know what Shiro’s scars actually look like?”

“I can run an analysis against the healing pod’s records.” Pidge had an easy answer. She’d no doubt thought this through before suggesting it. “Just need to get some good shots.” Or maybe this was just an excuse to compile blackmail photos. Oh Keith did so not want to be responsible for this. What if he was wrong? What if the scars matched and this really was Shiro? What if it wasn’t? Keith was starting to spiral when Shiro turned around and Keith saw something that caught his attention.

“Dude. Staring.” Lance nudged his elbow. 

Keith glared at him then leaned in and pointed to a spot on the screen. “There. Zoom in on that.”

Lance flicked a look to the spot then choked. “On Shiro’s crotch?”

“His hip.” Keith corrected. “The mark there.”

Lance frowned deeply but Pidge just shrugged and typed away muttering, “Embiggen. . . embiggen. . . embiggen. . .” as she progressively zoomed in until Keith told her to stop.

“There. Can you make that. . . better?” He pointed at a fuzzy blotch nestled in the hollow of Shiro’s left hip.

“Sure. Altean surveillance technology is fucking magic.” She typed again and sharpened the image until it clearly showed a roundish sort of shape in rusty red against Shiro’s skin. Keith clenched his fists and straightened up with a hard glare.

“That’s not Shiro.”

“Oh. . . Kay.” Lance arched a brow. “And you can tell that from looking at his crotch?”

“The scar, Lance.” Keith corrected but Lance wasn’t having it.

“The scar on his crotch.” 

“His hip.” Keith tried not to growl but he really did not want to argue about this of all things. Of course Lance did not stop.

“If it’s under the briefs it’s either crotch or ass. That’s not ass.”

“Whatever.” Keith threw a hand up. “The scar is wrong.”

“How the fuck do you know?”

“Because I put it there,” Keith hissed and that at least made Lance stop. 

Though not quite shut up. He still drawled a very eloquent, “Uuuuh” as his mouth gaped. 

“Ok,” Pidge cut in before Lance managed to recover and this got worse. “That’s a real interesting conversation you’re having but can you prove it?”

“You don’t believe me?” Keith turned on her with an almost hurt look.

“I believe that you put a weird scar on Shiro’s crotch but how can you be sure that’s not it?”

Keith gave her a flat look for that but she had a point. It was a reasonable question. She had no way of knowing how Keith could be so certain. He really did not want to explain that. But. . . Keith heaved a defeated sigh then hesitated just a moment longer before he pulled down the top of his pants to show his own hip. There was a mark in the exact same place as the spot on Shiro but it was sharper on Keith. Raised edges of an old scar circled a twisting pattern of indentations and ridges stained a dark, dried blood color.

“Wha?” Lance continued to gape.

“Fascinating.” Pidge leaned in and adjusted her glasses. “Is that a brand?”

“What the actual fuck, Keith?!” Lance recovered enough to screech. Keith shook his head with a sigh.

“It’s a long story.”

“Welp.” Pidge spared him from explaining that. Bless her. Then took a quick snapshot before letting Keith pull up his pants. “I’m gonna run the rest of these scars through the healing pod’s records and see if anything else doesn’t match up.” She turned back to screens to do just that. Keith and Lance looked at each other uncomfortably. Lance was the one to ask.

“What if it they don’t? Match.” 

“Then I guess we have our proof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just got away from me and is much much too long for a single part fic so I decided to split it up into two parts. And, because I filled the initial request in the first one, I’m looking for ideas on how to end it.
> 
>  **So leave a comment telling me how you’d like this to go down.** In particular I’m looking for:  
>  * What is NotShiro - druid magic, shapeshifting alien, cybernetic replicant, evil clone, something else?  
> * Is NotShiro really evil (they get rid of him) or is he just being used (they help him)?  
> * Should I explain Keith and Shiro’s shared scars or leave that open for the reader to take it where they want?


	6. The Princess Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins of Voltron find themselves playing out the Princess Bride. What more really needs to be said? 
> 
> Posted this to tumblr a while back but figured I might as well toss it in here too. Don’t have time to finish it right now but might if y’all think this would be a good read. 
> 
> **Kudos and/or comment if you want to see this finished.**

“We'll reach the Cliffs by dawn.” The little Sicilian spoke with confidence standing beside the swordsman at the helm of a small sailboat gliding fast through a dark sea. The swordsman nodded then glanced over his shoulder to the distance behind them. 

“Why are you doing that?” the Sicilian didn’t even try to hide the irritation in their voice. 

“Making sure nobody's following us,” the swordsman gave a simple answer. 

“That would be inconceivable,” the Sicilian huffed at his paranoia. 

“Despite what you think,” a lithe beauty in fine dress sat up from the deck of the ship to glare at them both. “You will be caught. And when you are, the Prince will see you all hanged.” 

The Sicilian turned a cold eye on the beauty. “Of all the necks on this boat, Highness, the one you should be worrying about is your own.” 

The beauty narrowed sharp blue eyes and considered snapping back but a soft pat on the shoulder from another man sitting behind them put a quick stop to that. The hand could have crushed their skull. It was huge. The giant it belonged to gave them an almost apologetic smile and little shrug as the swordsman looked behind them again. 

“Stop doing that,” the Sicilian snapped at him. “We can all relax, it's almost over-” 

“You're sure nobody's following us?” the swordsman cut off whatever assurance was to come next. 

“As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we've done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” The Sicilian paused to arch a brow at the swordsman. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?” 

“No reason,” he answered simply and for a brief moment that might have been all. Then he added. “It's only, I just happened to look behind us, and something is there.” 

“What?” the Sicilian spat and all four whirled to stare back. The giant even stepped up to look over the water with them. It was hard to see. The moon was behind scattered clouds and the waves pounding. The wind whistled and ominous sound. The three squinted at the distance, holding their breath trying desperately to see. But there was nothing. Just the black of night and choppy water. Then the moon slipped through and the swordsman was right. Something is there. They all frowned at it. A sailboat with a great billowing black sail. It still a good distance away but gaining fast. 

The Sicilian huffed a frustrated sound then tried to explain with as much logic as could be mustered, “Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise. At night. Through eel-infested waters.” 

The other two exchanged a doubtful look behind the Sicilian’s back then all turned quickly on the sound of rustling to their side. The beauty had gotten up, gathered fine skirts and was perched now on the boat’s rail, staring into the water about to jump. There was a tense moment of shock where the other three realised they couldn’t stop it. There was too much distance and no way for them to cross it in time. All they could do was wait for the splash. 

The splash didn’t come. 

“Eel-infested waters?” the beauty looked up with a confused expression to stare at the other three. They blinked, not sure what else to say. The beauty arched a slender brow at that then looked themself over. “And why the quiznak am I wearing a dress!?” 

“Uhh. . . I’m maybe a little more worried about _how_ you’re wearing a dress. And how we’re on a boat. And uh. . . what’s going on?” the giant shrank in on himself, though it didn’t make him any less giant. 

The Sicilian frowned as the swordsman drew his sword and started a quick search of the perimeter. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked in a much less chill tone than he'd delivered the lines before. 

"Uhh. . . I don't. . ." the giant stammered a bit but trailed off as the beauty came down from the rails to put a reassuring hand to his shoulder. 

"It's OK, Hunk. We'll figure this out," they spoke soft then looked to the swordsman. "Cheese, Keith. Could you put the sword down for like two seconds." 

"No, Lance. I can't," the swordsman snapped with a hard glare. "We don't know what's going on. Or where we are. There could be enemies on this ship." 

"Do you see anyone else?" Lance waved a frilled sleeve at the single deck of the small boat. There really weren't many places to hide. 

Keith narrowed his eyes then turned away with a huff, "Shut up and let me look." 

Lance rolled his eyes but backed off then arched a brow at the Sicilian. "You ok, Pidgey?" 

She blinked then pushed up her glasses with a little frown and looked the group over warily. The silence got their attention and all three stared expectantly back at her. She hesitated a moment before pointing at Keith, "Swordsman." She didn't wait for him to respond before moving the finger to Hunk, "Giant." Then at Lance, "Princess." Lance started to huff a protest for that but Pidge kept going, "Guilder. Florin. Eel-infested waters." She turned to squint at the boat that was still coming right at them and pointed over the waves. "The Dread Pirate Roberts." 

The boys blinked. It was obvious Pidge had some background knowledge about the situation but wasn’t doing the best job of communicating it. Keith frowned and started to resume his threat assessment when Lance gasped. 

“No way! Oh no. Nononono. Nuh-uh. There is no quiznakin’ way that I am not the Spaniard!” 

Keith arched a brow with a little frown then glanced at Hunk who was trying to hide a little smirk. Ok. They knew something. 

“Inigo? Not Westley?” Pidge almost purred a tease. Lance blinked for it and hesitated a moment then shrugged. 

“Depends on who the Princess is. I mean the obvious choice would be Allura so yeah, sure. But-” he waved at himself, “Obvious choice doesn’t seem to apply here. Besides. Inigo has the better story. And all the best lines. Westley’s just a floppy dick for most of the movie” He paused briefly then added, “Also. _Spaniard_. Keith doesn’t even speak Spanish.” 

“That's racist." Keith put up his sword as he walked back to the group after satisfying his paranoia. Lance started to sputter excuses but Keith just ignored him. "Anyone want to clue me in to what’s going on?” 

“Well,” Pidge adjusted her glasses. “I don’t know how or why but we seem to be in the Princess Bride.” 

Keith gave her a blank stare. 

“It’s uh- a movie.” Hunk explained. “Kind of an action-romance thing about this fairytale princess that gets kidnapped and then rescued by her true love." Hunk paused with a little fidget, "It's Lance's favorite. He used to watch it almost every month. Can quote the whole thing." 

"It's a good movie, ok!" Lance threw up his hands and looked away with a little pout. "Can't believe I have to be Buttercup." 

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> Comments keep me writing and without them I default to thinking my stuff sucks then lose the will to continue.
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